The Proposal
by Martin III
Summary: SF CD Nick has made up his mind: Mayfair is his ideal wife. There could be no better queen for Cypress. But can he make Mayfair herself see things that way? Meanwhile,the new enemies of Cypress and Iom are gathering... Rated T for minor adult themes.
1. Chapter 1: Farewells

Author's Notes:

As I never fail to mention: this is NOT an alternate universe tale. This story is consistent with Shining canon as far as I can see, and all my future fanfics will treat it as canon.

If this is your first time reading one of my fics, you may want to read "The King's Friends", "Deanna and Natasha", and "While You Guys Were Out" first, so as to get my full interpretation of the plotlines and characters of Shining Force CD. "The King's Friends" is the most closely connected, and a pretty quick read. However, you should have no trouble understanding this story even without having read my earlier fics.

Technical Notes: The milieu of this fanfic is property of Sega. Unlike my earlier fics, which feature either predominately Sega-owned characters or predominantly original characters, this fic is near evenly split between the two. If a character doesn't appear in any of my earlier stories, he is property of Martin III - with the exception of Stock, who is property of Sega. Otherwise, refer to the author's notes on my earlier stories for who owns who.

This story is set shortly after Shining Force CD.

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The Proposal

plot and script - Martin III

original flashback dialogue from Shining Force CD - Hiroyuki Takahashi, Shugo Takahashi, and Hiroshi Kajiyama

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Queen Anri stepped to within two meters of King Nicholas - closer than almost any foreigner would be permitted to come to the Cypress throne. "We of Guardiana thank you for your hospitality, Your Highness," she said, with all of her usual regal bearing. "Now that the celebrations of your coronation have ended, however, we must return to our home."

Nicholas took a second to adjust his new crown on his head; he still hadn't become used to its perching there. "We had hoped you might grace us with your presence a bit longer, Your Highness."

"As had we. However, several matters of state require my presence in Guardiana."

The king nodded. "I understand. I must again apologize for the reception your emissary received when you sent us your timely aid against Iom."

"Don't concern yourself," Anri reassured him. She needed neither gesture nor expression to convey her dismissiveness toward the matter. She continued with a slight smile, "We both know Shriek is all too easily offended. It was a misstep on both sides. I've been queen for many years now; I know all too well how hard it is to ensure that one's representatives always properly embody one's intentions and manners."

Nicholas inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I'll keep that in mind should I ever have occasion to be offended by one of your representatives. Then, as to our trade agreement...?"

"I find nothing of strong objection in the terms you have offered, save that I am envious that you managed to draw them up in so short a time, under such a tumultuous time in your nation's organization." She cast a hand towards the Cypress king, as though in casual offer. "We shall follow your agreement as stated for the time being. When I next have the opportunity to visit Cypress, we shall work out the fine details."

"Very gracious of you, my lady." He wished he had something to offer in return for her favors, though he knew Guardiana was still grateful for his leading them to victory against Woldol. His father had taught him that the member of an alliance to whom gratitude is due is the one who holds the upper hand. And in truth, Anri's identity as a fellow monarch made him feel a bit sorry for her: she had no heir, nor even a husband to produce one.

It was an enigma. Queen Anri had been the sole remaining member of the Guardiana royal family for over 20 years now; surely she realized that if she did not produce an heir, Guardiana would fall into disarray upon her death. And Nick could hardly believe that she suffered from a lack of suitors. Even at her advanced age, she was still quite beautiful, and must have been more so in her youth. Was there something in her past, some terrible loss or strong attachment perhaps, that made her unwilling to marry?

It didn't matter. Solving this problem of hers was not within his power. He himself was the last of his nation's royalty, and he could hardly offer himself in marriage to Anri. Ignoring any other considerations, it would be a union of Cypress and Guardiana.

Anri shook her head. "I am not gracious at all. I simply try to do the best I can for my country, and for my allies. As you do too, I must imagine."

"Yes." The monosyllable felt almost like a silence.

"I don't seek your gratitude. We have shared a struggle; that makes us allies. Any complication of that relationship is a loss, in my consideration." She bowed her head to him. "Thank you for your hospitality. We look forward to dealing with you again."

"The feeling is mutual," King Nicholas said, standing up to see her off. Though they spoke with the habitual formality of royalty, the look that passed between them then removed all ambiguity: they were friends. Discrete friends, to be sure, for Nick knew well that a king's friends are those who are useful to him, and judging by his impressions of Anri, the duties of being queen had deprived her of the time and energy for a strong friendship. But friends nonetheless.

Once she was gone, Nick handed his crown off to an attendant and headed downstairs, Gyan at his side.

He gave a heavy sigh once they were out of hearing of his retainers. "That's the last time I leave Varmo in charge of anything."

Gyan frowned. "What are you talking about? You left Mayfair in charge. You couldn't have known -" He stopped, and a most curious grin came over his face. "Then again, you could have, couldn't you?"

"No, I couldn't," Nick admitted. "A lot depended on whether or not Natasha would be among the party leaving Castle Cypress, but from Mayfair's reports I suspected Varmo would be ambitious enough to take charge. If he didn't, either Natasha or Irinod would have been a good leader, and I would have known that Varmo didn't have what it takes. Not that I haven't discovered that anyway."

"Don't be so harsh. He just did what he thought a good Cypressian leader would do."

"If he thinks needlessly insulting an emissary of an _ally_ is what a good leader would do, then he's a lot less intelligent than I thought," Nick returned. "And what about exiling Yeesha? Just trying to be a good leader, again?"

"Well... he couldn't ignore the evidence..."

"The evidence of her organizing a rebellion? Either he's a complete fool for not recognizing such an obvious frame-up, or he did the framing himself. I hadn't been counting on Varmo being a great leader, but I thought I could rely on him not fouling things up as badly as _this_. Organizing a search for Yeesha was one headache I shouldn't have had to deal with."

"Look on the bright side. Thanks to all you went through just for her, Yeesha seems to be looking upon you kindly again."

"I'm overjoyed," Nick said with a grimace. "The point is, Varmo concerns himself too much with holding the office of leader and not enough with actually _being_ a leader."

Gyan cocked his eye at him. "An easy pitfall for you to avoid. You hold your office by right of blood."

"True," Nick nodded. "And with Natasha gone, we could use a leader among the ranks of the young. Which is why I'm going to give him another chance. But he'll have to earn it."

"You have an idea?"

"The beginnings of one. But I have more important things to deal with right now than Varmo."

They at last reached the gates of Castle Cypress. A woman was waiting for him there.

"Natasha?" Nick prodded.

"Deanna and I have to leave now, Your Highness," she said simply. He spotted the young Iomite waiting for her some distance away. "Deanna actually was keen on leaving a lot sooner, but..."

"You brow-beat him into staying?" he filled in.

"Oh, no!" She shook her head in fierce denial. "He always does what I ask... without question. If it makes me happy, that's enough for him." She blushed slightly at this admission. "But we really need to get back. The team of aid workers we put together relies on our help and leadership. And there's so many people there in need..." She trailed off, staring into the distance.

"Natasha," Nick said carefully, "...are you happy?"

She turned and looked at him. Then she smiled. "'Happy' doesn't begin to describe how I feel. The way Deanna appreciates who I am... even loves and needs it... it's made me free to _be_ who I am. When I'm with him, I'm more alive than I've ever been. But it's not just him. The work we're doing... rebuilding homes, treating wounds, finding food for hungry people... we've been doing so much good." She met the king's eyes directly. "This is what I've always wanted... to use my talents to help people, instead of hurting them. I needed to hurt people in the war, and it made my heart sick. It's why I couldn't be friends with Dawn anymore. But now... I feel like I'm undoing the hurt I've done, and then some. I thought living in Iom was a hardship I'd have to endure to be with Deanna, but I'm more fulfilled there than I ever was in Cypress."

Then she caught herself. "Uh... Forigive me, Your Highness, I just meant -"

"I'm glad for you," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder and smiling. "I hope that you stay just as content and... actualized as you are now. If things ever change, though, we'd be happy to have you back at Castle Cypress."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

He moved his hand to her chin and raised her head. "There's no need for that; we're friends. You can call me Prince Nick as long as you wish."

"Thank you. I'd like that."

"You did retrieve all the belongings you left in your room when you went off with Deanna, correct?"

"Deanna's carrying them. Thanks for having your servants hold onto them for me." She smiled again. "Excuse me, then, Prince Nick. Deanna's waiting for me."

"Of course."

She turned and ran to Deanna. His countenance perceptibly brightened as she came near. They greeted each other with a kiss, and entwining their hands, they turned to go on their way.

It was strange, Nick thought. The two them seemed so very happy, and he couldn't imagine them otherwise. Yet their love looked so... silly, even foolish. He didn't understand it. He doubted he'd ever understand that sort of love at all.

"You're rather fond of those two, aren't you?" Gyan commented.

Nick frowned, turning toward the gardens. "What makes you think that?"

Gyan grinned. "A few things. First of all, you did take some pretty strong measures to safeguard Deanna's life back at the shrine of Iom."

"That was Hindel's dying wish," Nick snapped. "And it was the only part of my promise to him that I managed to keep. Do not take that topic of discussion any further, Gyan."

"Sorry. ...Well, there's one thing that's been nagging at my brain." He fixed Nick with a look. "You knew that if you convinced Natasha to confess her feelings for Deanna she'd end up leaving Cypress with him, didn't you?"

The king considered a moment. "It wasn't a sure thing. I did know that Natasha couldn't convince him to stay."

"And you chose to make the two of them happy rather than retain the most valuable member of your youth squads."

"Tell me, Gyan... how useful would Natasha have been here, doing nothing but pining away for Deanna?"

Gyan looked surprised. "Was she?"

"Mayfair told me that in the two days before Deanna's departure, she showed no interest in anything and was minimally responsive to even her closest friends. It was worrying her."

"I see." There was a short pause. "And just now...?"

"There's always a chance that what she has with Deanna will fall apart," Nick said simply. "If that happens, she'll go back to the place she feels most at home. If I ensure that that place is here, we'll have regained a most valuable soldier."

Gyan chuckled. "Just a gut feeling, but I don't think there's any chance of that pair breaking apart. They're practically joined at the hip."

"Even so, at the least they're both important people in Iom. It's certainly worth a small bit of effort to be on their good side." He brushed a hand over his cheek. "To be honest, I do hope that she'll remain content wi-"

"Did you hear that?" Gyan interrupted.

Nick stopped to listen. "Sounds like Mayfair yelling something."

The pair stepped out of the garden and looked back towards Castle Cypress. Stock, a stern faced, middle-aged centaur they'd met during the liberation of Cypress, was on the far side of the drawbridge, heading away from the castle. Mayfair had just come out of the gate and was running after him like a bolt fired from a crossbow. "Stock! Stock! Stawwwwwk!"

Nick caught Stock grimace just before he turned to face Mayfair. She didn't slow down, and a breath later she collided with the ranger, throwing her arms around his waist and pressing the side of her face against his fur. "You're... you're leaving already?" she said, her voice choked and meek.

"Never seen Mayfair like that before," Gyan murmured to Nick.

"Sorry, kid," Stock said, gently running a hand over the top of Mayfair's head. "There's work to be done back home."

"That doesn't make any sense! We can provide for you here, as long as you want. You can't leave so soon; I haven't even had time to really see you, I've been so busy with everything!" She pulled back from him a little, seeming to get a bit of control over herself. "Please, just a few weeks. I promise I'll make time."

"Look... I have a family now. They need me..."

"Stock!" she gasped, staring at him in disbelief. "You... you're lying to me!"

"What? I -"

"It's obvious." She was coming to tears now. "Besides, when we were hiding from Woldol you told me you never wanted to remarry."

Stock sighed and hung his head. "Look, Mayfair, I... I just can't stay in a place like this, all full of noble folk and luxury and formality. A man like me just can't be comfortable here."

She sniffed. "Can't you stay even a few days... for me?"

"It's not like you to ask someone else to suffer for you, Mayfair," he said, giving her hair one last little tousle. "I gotta go now, kid. Stay healthy."

"Well," she said, forcing a smile, "...I can still come visit you sometime, can't I?"

Nick saw his cheek twitch a moment, but Mayfair didn't seem to notice. "Sure. Why not?" Bending his legs and stooping down as far he could with his torso, he managed to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "Take care of yourself, kid."

Mayfair gave him one last quick hug, and whispering "Goodbye, Stock," she watched him go.

As Nick walked toward her, he said quietly, "Find somewhere else to be, Gyan."

The beastman frowned. "Why?"

"I know you. You're not going to be able to resist making some snide remark. Mayfair doesn't need that right now."

"I might _not_ have," he growled, but he gracefully walked away.

Nick laid a hand on her shoulder. It was funny; though Mayfair seemed to tower over all around her like an immense edifice of comfort and power, she really was a petite woman, standing close to a head shorter than him. "Are you okay?" he said gently. The question's wording was crude, common; but Nick knew that common speech was often of more value in giving comfort.

"I'm sorry, Nick," Mayfair said, wiping her face to clear away the remains of her tears. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this. I'm fine." She laughed slightly. "Good spirits, what a mess I must be now."

"You look fine." It was true. Aside from a little redness around her eyes, she was as neat and proper as ever.

"Thank you." She turned to face him. "Forgive me. We've just finished celebrating your great triumph, and I've made such an unhappy scene..."

"Forget what Stock says. You _should_ ask someone else to suffer for you now and then. And... you really wanted Stock to stay, didn't you?"

She nodded. "I wish he'd stay here permanently... he's my dearest friend."

Nick smiled. "I thought you said I was your dearest friend."

"No, Nick," she answered, refusing to take the matter with any levity. "If you're talking about what I believe you are, I said that you are the best friend I have. You've been a better friend to me than Stock - than anyone." She looked up at him with grateful eyes. This bewildered Nick. He'd made no effort to be a good friend to her; so far as he could see, as a friend he'd simply been _there_. "And I do care for you, Nick, but Stock holds the strongest bond to my heart. It's unfair, but..."

"But true," he finished simply and with a sense of closure, but inside he felt a tinge of jealousy. Mayfair was a remarkable woman, full of spirit, and he wished he could hold her affections close to him. "He saved your life, didn't he?"

"He did more than that." Her eyes turned from him now, and seemed to stare into the past. "The day Woldol blinded me, I became numb to fear. There was nothing, no moment, which I didn't have reason to be afraid of. Stock pulled me out of that pit of fear. I'll never forget the moment I first felt his hand closing over my mouth, to cover a cry. At first, I struggled against him with all my strength. I couldn't see who he was - that made him a threat. Then, because I'd become numb to fear, I was able to realize that the hands holding me were gentle, the first gentle touch I'd felt in days. Days that seemed like years to me. I relaxed, and he whispered to me, 'Easy, girl. I'm a friend.' They were the sweetest words I'd ever heard."

She paused to wipe away a tear. "I'll always love Stock for what he did. He's almost a father to me; after all, in a way he gave me new life. It hurts to be away from him all the time." She looked back at Nick, and her voice sounded normal again. "I don't suppose, with the war being over, that I might have a couple weeks leave at some point?"

He gave her the barest of smiles in assent. "You've served Cypress well enough. I think you deserve it."

Mayfair responded with quiet gratitude, but he knew he wasn't giving her much. It wasn't Castle Cypress that Stock couldn't stand; it was Mayfair. He'd never brought it up during the fight to liberate Cypress, not being the sort to complain, but when Nick spoke to him of Mayfair during his coronation trials, he'd made his feelings known.

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It was early in their trip, on a night tense with the sounds of insects and stranger animals. He and Stock were both on watch, and he thought it a good moment to thank him for saving Mayfair. "She's done so much good for Cypress," he'd said. "I realize that none of it would have happened if not for what you did. Thank you."

"Sure," Stock grunted. "Though I think you deserve more credit than me, for seeing she'd be a great general."

"You never saw a glimmer of that in her?"

In all the time he'd known him, Stock never once smiled. But something like an amused twinkle passed over his eyes as he answered, "I've never been able to see her as anything but a cute little pain in the frog."

"In the what?"

Stock gave Nick a reproachful look, and lifted one of his forelegs to point to the underside of his hoof. "This."

"Oh yes, of course." Nick blushed slightly. "I wasn't thinking of that; none of the centaurs I've known have ever used that expression. But... you regard Mayfair as a pain?" He held the surprise out of his voice.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. She's kind and adorable, I know." His use of diminutive terms to describe Mayfair was bewildering Nick to the point of aggravation. She was small, yes, but Mayfair was most manifestly a woman, not a child. "But... Well, you saw what she did when I arrived for the coronation. It was more forgivable then since she hadn't seen me in a while, but I swear, she was like that the whole time we were on the run from Woldol's men, just hugging me right out of the blue. I told her that just grabbing me like that is inappropriate, but she just gave me one of those damnable cute smiles and rattled off some noise about how I shouldn't shut away my feelings. And a few hours later she did it again. She even kissed me on the cheek once."

"How did she reach that high?" Nick asked, amused.

"Well, that's another thing. A group of Woldol's men had surprised us, and we had to make a quick retreat. So she... she..." Stock swallowed, his face contorting with disgust. "...she _mounted_ me."

"Given her blindness, I think she'd have had a difficult time running away on her own legs."

"But..." Stock sputtered out, his face turning red. "But to do just do it like that, not even asking permission, not even giving me a_warning_ for pity's sake? One second I was looking for a good place to run to, and the next, HELLO!" He shook his head, almost a shudder. "Mayfair is a kind person. Really, I know. But she's so... so..."

"Impertinent?" Nick offered blandly.

"Impertinent. Mayfair is impertinent?" Stock echoed, trying out the new word. "Mayfair is impertinent. Yeah, it sounds right."

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Nick stuffed aside the memory, inwardly shaking his head at Stock's feelings toward Mayfair. Truly, there was no accounting for taste.

It was a shame. Stock, Mayfair, Rohde... they'd all given their best for Cypress, yet their hearts had not been contented. It made him thankful that his own struggles and scheming had borne rich fruit. It had taken a long time, but now he could at last revel in the fact that he had won all but one of the things he sought.

He cast a wistful look at Mayfair, who was now once more reviewing the castle guards. _All but one._


	2. Chapter 2: Duties

A few weeks after the coronation, Nick was faced with little choice but to send Mayfair on a mission to overview Cypress's military outposts. Not because the job was necessary; on the contrary, he'd already sent out lower-ranking military officers to ensure that order was being restored in Cypress's outlying regions, and their reports had come back positive. With her unique touch, Mayfair could certainly improve the organization of the outposts, but that was not the instigating reason behind the mission.

The fact of it was that Mayfair's presence at Castle Cypress had become unbearable to Nick. Ever since his coronation, he'd found himself obsessed with her - or rather, with her physical form. In meetings with his high officials, he was finding it difficult to concentrate over thoughts of Mayfair's pretty lips and supple waist.

He knew what was happening; as soon as Nick entered puberty, Gyan had made sure to explain to him about the body's natural desire to reproduce. But the knowledge did him no good. He told himself that this infatuation with Mayfair's womanhood had nothing to do with her sharp wisdom, her endearing personality, nor even her sculpted loveliness, and everything to do with the fact that his body, now it was no longer occupied with war, was reminding him of the need to procreate. But he could not prevent himself from reacting to Mayfair's every movement as though he'd been hit with a Spark spell.

He'd made up his mind shortly after the coronation to ask her to be his wife, but he couldn't do it under these conditions. So, in order to continue properly performing his duties as king, he had to distance himself from Mayfair until he'd cooled himself down.

"I'd been planning on taking that two weeks leave we discussed," she said, with disappointment but no hint of argument, when he gave her the assignment at a meeting with his ministers.

"If it pleases you, you have permission to go directly to wherever you wish upon completion of your mission," he offered. "The messengers' reports should be sufficient."

She shook her head. "I'm sure I'll need at least a week here afterwards to put everything back in order."

"The youth squads will be a shambles without you," Irinod agreed. "The only reason they didn't completely fall apart during your last absence was because Luke and Eric weren't here to work their mischief."

"Eric has been much less of a bother since the war ended," she returned. "It's Halron who worries me. He's already done major injury to one fellow guard. If something were to really set him off..."

"Forget about that," Nick interrupted, "...and everything to do with the running of this castle, for the next few weeks. It is paramount that you concentrate on your mission." Gyan raised an eyebrow at that, but added no comment. "Our other chief objective is establishing relations with Emild. Have you finished gathering information on that, Richard?"

Giving a nod, his minister of foreign affairs elaborated, "The late king of Emild has been succeeded by his first born son. Iom apparently let the boy live to avoid calling attention to Gordon's taking of the throne, though they were doubtlessly waiting for the right moment to sacrifice him to Iom as well."

"'The boy', you call him?"

He clarified, "He is of age. But... younger than Your Majesty."

Nick smiled. "Not by much, if he is of age." To his amusement, Richard responded by looking down at the table while bashfully plucking at his dwarven beard.

"I'm not sure how reasonable the new king will be. His father's death, and perhaps more importantly, Gordon's posing as him, have made him paranoid. Even he was fooled into believing Gordon was his father, you see. He also seems frustrated that his father's death has already been avenged for him. Put the two together, and I'd say the boy is earnestly looking to find enemies wherever he can."

"Can May and Chester not move him at all?"

"That's our best hope. And in all honesty, it's not a bad one. Chester and May are longstanding members of the court; he should listen to them." He gave a worried frown. "The only question is, is the king paranoid enough to see Chester and May themselves as enemies?"

Nick leaned back in his chair. He liked the forthrightness of Richard's reports; he always gave all of his observations, and if you listened carefully enough to what he said, you'd find that he gave more than that. "Surely your agents would have noticed if that was so."

"True, it wasn't so when we made our ventures in Emild. But perhaps all that is needed is the right spark. A misspoken word here, a wrong look there, may be all it takes to arouse the king's suspicions against those two."

A silence fell over the table. "No suggestions?" Nick asked of those present.

"If the king of Emild is unreasonable, there's nothing you can do about it right now," Gyan answered. "Once you're certain he can't be dealt with..."

He didn't finish, but Nick nodded. "I have an idea if it should come to that. In the meantime, Richard, continue to feel things out at the Emild court. As soon as possible, inform them that we will gladly provide aid to help pull them out of their struggles, once a relationship between our two nations has been solidified by the trade agreement we've had drawn up."

"Don't you think the king's suspicions will be aroused by the old bait-and-switch, Your Highness?" Irinod put in.

"If that's what this trade agreement was, I'd expect him to become angry, not suspicious." Nick leaned forward again over the table. "But I have no desire to anger Emild's monarch. The terms of the new agreement are completely equitable, although they are more restrictive of Emild's ability to alter the agreement than Cypress's."

The old centaur nodded with approval. "And Emild won't care about that at the moment. Very good, Your Highness."

"It wouldn't do to apply a reversal on Emild any time soon, but the security of being able to do so is important. Mayfair, once you have the time, I'd like you to draw up a military alliance with Emild. We must ensure that Emild does not become easy prey again; they can too easily be used as a stepping stone to attack Cypress."

"Now, wait a moment," she protested. "What is this idea of yours for dealing with Emild's king?"

"There's no need for you, or anyone at this meeting, to know that," Nick said firmly. "You have all the information you need to do your duty."

There was a pause. "Then I suppose there's no point in asking who you're expecting to attack us, considering that Iom is in shambles and Guardiana is our ally."

"Mayfair." Another silence fell.

"Forgive me," she said at last. "I didn't mean that to come out the way it did."

Her humble contrition was even more charming than her willful questioning of his secrecy had, in truth, been. "The possibility of conflict between Guardiana and Emild, however unlikely, cannot be ignored," he explained. "More importantly, we must ever be prepared for the future. Iom will eventually recover, and other major nations may become more involved in our part of the world, now that the ice has been broken by our relations with Guardiana."

"...Why won't you look at me?"

He had no decent excuse for averting his eyes, and although the king of Cypress needed no excuses, it was best not to arouse concern. He focused on her eyes, but those warm pools were easily as captivating as the rest of her body. "I didn't know eye contact with me was important to you, Mayfair," he said in a bemused tone.

Her lovely cheeks colored with embarrassment; all present at the meeting knew that in addition to being her sovereign, King Nicholas was also on friendly terms with her. She returned, "When all but oneself are being graced with your gaze, Your Majesty, it is difficult not to feel bereft."

Gyan chuckled at her unconvincing pronunciation, drawing him a quick glare from the general. This gave Nick a good view of her profile, framed by her long hair. He had to grip the underside of the table to control the blood pounding through his head. "Ahm. You understand what I want from the alliance, Mayfair?"

She bobbed her head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

He stood. "Good. I believe we have covered every issue of importance, so we may consider this meeting dismissed."

"Your Majesty, wait -" Jaron said, shooting up to his feet so suddenly that his chair fell over. He said in a flurry, "There is still the matter of the coin commemorating your ascension to the throne."

"Arrange a meeting with me once you have the designs ready."

"They are ready, Your Majesty."

The king cocked his head at him. "How many have you prepared?"

"Three."

"Notify me when you have enough designs that you are confident I'll be satisfied with at least one. I do not have time to waste on a potentially fruitless meeting."

He ignored Jaron's flustered apology as he walked from the room. He waited as the others passed out as well, and nodded his head at Mayfair when she came. "Mayfair, if you will kindly accompany me?"

Giving her assent, she walked beside him, following him into an isolated corridor. He didn't like being alone with her in his current state of infatuation, but... "I want to apologize for embarrassing you like that about the eye contact. It was thoughtless of me."

She nodded. "It's all right." She cleared her throat and looked up at him, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. "You were very harsh with Jaron."

"I have to be honest with my subjects, and my time is becoming more and more valuable. I'm not even sure how we're going to handle the issue of the lands we annexed from Iom yet. Without any major authority in Iom for us to discuss the matter with - but that's just one more task among many that I have to attend to."

"You know you can always trust me to lighten your load, if need be."

He gave a half smile. "I can't call myself king if I don't handle the responsibilities I'm entrusted with. Don't worry about me; my father trained me for this my whole life. Besides, you have your own load." He hesitated a moment, then added, "I'm sorry if I was crueler to Jaron than necessary. Should I apologize to him?"

"You know very well that you can't do that - you're the king. Just... try to be gentle with people in the future, if you can."

"I'll try."

She gave him a light hug. It took him by surprise, though it shouldn't have. The physical contact was beyond distracting, and he went completely stiff. "I'll miss you, Nick. Try not to take on too many responsibilities."

The impression of her body against his struck him dumb, and he could not manage even one word, not even after she released him. He merely stared at her hair shifting along the back of her plain dress as she walked away.

Once she was gone, he shook his head to clear it. _Blessed Cypress, I'm like a pitiful schoolboy. I should have sent her on this mission days ago._

----------------------

Nick awoke the next morning by the radiant sunlight breaking through the 12-foot high windows of the royal bedroom. He filled his lungs with a deep, pleasurable breath, taking in the feel of the heavenly soft mattress beneath him, the warm blankets layered atop him, and the vast sheets wrapped around his body. Then he sat up on the large pillows piled under his head, relishing the way his room looked in the early morning light. Being king certainly did have its comforts.

He jerked himself from the warmth of his bed and got dressed. While he pulled on his boots, he gave the second of the bellropes rigged beside his bed a pull. After a moment's thought, he pulled the first one as well. A few moments later, Gyan poked his head in.

"Oh, you're just dressing," he grunted. "So, what is it?"

"I'd like you to inform the guards that I'll be going for a morning ride."

"Is that wise? Even the areas around Castle Cypress are still recovering from the war."

"All the more reason to uplift their spirits with a taste of normalcy. The people must see their king."

"Should I accompany you?"

"Of course."

Aside from Gyan, he breakfasted alone; most of the nobility were still in their beds. Nonetheless, the servants brought forth a table-spanning amount of food, multiple times what the two of them could finish, though they gave it their best shot.

"Hungry this morning, eh Nick?"

"You might say that." It would be more accurate to say that he felt invigorated by the morning, and was ready to give the day the most he could.

The guards were waiting for them outside with Nick's favored horse. Gyan instead mounted a leighorn, a squat, sure-footed animal, as no horse could safely bear the combined weight of Gyan and his bulky armor. Four centaur knights accompanied them as they rode off.

The day was clear and bright, as Nick had hoped. Entering the villages standing around Castle Cypress, they found that the common people were mostly well into their day, walking about and doing what Nick supposed were their daily chores. They looked up at him with intense interest as he passed by, though they did their best not to stare or otherwise falter in their routine. He regarded them with benevolence, but not empathy - to do that would be ludicrous, perhaps even an insult. And yet, though they were meant to see him primarily as the glory and ideal of Cypress, in a sense he should be seen as their equal. When all around was sadness, they could look upon him as a Cypressian like themselves, a contented one, and live vicariously through his happiness. Royalty, after all, were the stuff fairy tales were made of. They were glorious, yet human enough to let their riches fall on ordinary people.

The idea was to fill them with awe for his strength, his virtues, and his accomplishments, but appear a normal man at the same time. The trouble was, he was not a normal man in one important way: he was a bachelor. Until he had a queen and children to accompany him on his rides, the picture would be incomplete.

_Well. No use in thinking of Mayfair right now. It's enough that, in spite of a horrific military coup and a war with Iom, beloved Cypress still has a healthy king._

As the morning wore on, he turned back to Castle Cypress. Gyan noted, "Guess you made the right call. The people seemed happy to see you."

"I hope so. The image of a king is a bit hard to bear."

Gyan shook his head. "You don't do any of the work there, Nick. Remember that. Most of it's seeing their king is alive and strong; it doesn't matter much who the king is."

"Well, there's a blow to my ego." Upon arriving back at the castle, he dismounted and said to his guards, "If there is need of me, I'll be in the gardens."

----------------------

Walking between the rows of flowers, the king murmured to Gyan, "Make sure I'm not followed."

"You mean...?"

"It's time I paid Barro another visit."

Gyan silently disappeared among the taller plants. The beastman knew his duty well, and in spite of his bulk he could move undetected by all but the finest trackers. There was limited ground to cover here, and he would spot anyone who came near enough to learn the secret of Barro.

Nick called out gently, "Eruminshus?" Getting no reply, he walked towards the gardener's shed. "Eruminshus?"

"Right here, Your Highness," the dwarf answered, popping his head out from between two shrubs.

The king nearly jumped at this sudden appearance. "You certainly bury yourself into your work, don't you?"

"Hmmm. Well, when the sun's shining this hot, it doesn't suit me to stay out in it all day. Even with my hat on." He took a moment to brush some small leaves and twigs out of his beard. "Well, with the way of it being between kings and gardeners, I assume you're here to see Barro."

"Are you bitter, Eruminshus?"

"Eh? Ah, no! That's just the way of my speaking. I bring out the obvious without reason or an instant's thought. Nothing meant by it." He shuffled forward, throwing a beckoning gesture to the king. "Come. I'll take you to your coz."

They found him by a section of flowers, plucking off the head of one. Eruminshus jumped forward and grabbed his arm. "None of that, lad. Told you that before."

Barro sighed out an apology. Nick shifted his feet and said, "Would you leave the two of us alone, Eruminshus?"

"'Course."

Once he was gone, Nick squatted down before Barro. "How are you today, cousin?"

"Fine." He twisted the flower bud he still had in his hand, then let it fall. "It's boring here, cousin Nicholas. Can't I stop hiding now that you've got your crown?"

The king was silent a moment in consideration. "I'm sorry, Barro. Until I have a wife, our bloodline is still vulnerable."

"But you beat Iom. Nobody's going to kill you now!" Barro protested, grabbing hold of Nick's arm. "Are they, Nicholas?"

He smiled in reply. "I hope not. But I would have said the same thing to my father as you're saying to me now."

"You can't die. You and Eru and Mayfair and Gyan are the only people I know. If they make me king, I won't be able to see Eru anymore, and I don't like Gyan."

"That still leaves Mayfair, doesn't it?"

"Yeah... but she's a girl." He scuffed up a bit of dirt with his foot. "When are you going to get married, cousin Nicholas?"

"Soon. Within three months, if all goes right."

"And then I'll be able to go into the castle?"

"Yes."

He smiled. "They've got people my age there, right?"

"Not many right now, but they'll bring in more now that the war is over. Just remember to be careful about mixing with people who aren't of the nobility. Life has a way of tearing royalty away from commoners - even when they're close friends."

"Why should I worry about that?" Barro scowled. "I'm not going to be king!"

"Even after I'm married, you still could be king someday. If something happens to my children..."

"Don't say that!" He stomped his foot. "I don't want to be king! I don't want to make decisions and fight wars! I just want things to be normal again."

Nick stared at him a moment. "You really mean that, don't you?" He smiled and laid a hand on his heir's shoulder. "You're a good boy, Barro. I'm glad that you, at least, were spared during Woldol's coup."

"Me too. I mean... I'm glad you were spared too, cousin Nicholas."

The boy's hand clasped Nick's arm, and they remained like that a few moments. It was strange, but Nick liked that Barro had no desire to be king. It was heartening to know a member of royalty could live outside the shadow of that mantle, even though Nick was pleased to bear that mantle himself.

A faint rustle violently ended those thoughts. Nick's head shot up, but seeing and hearing nothing more, he called out, "Eru?" There was no answer.

He headed quietly back in the direction of the shed, taking Barro with him. Following his cue, the boy said nothing. They found Eruminshus in short order.

"Watch over the boy," Nick said to him, giving him a meaningful look. He left them, and walking a short distance away, called for Gyan. After half a minute's wait, the beastman emerged from the tall bushes.

"Lo, Nick."

"Did you spot anyone?"

Gyan shook his head. "Something out of place?"

"I thought I heard a noise. Probably the wind or a falling leaf, and I just mistook it for something else. But we have to be careful." He gestured back towards Barro and Eruminshus. "I have to deal with several dozen matters today. Watch over the boy for me. And I mean don't let him out of your sight."

"No problem."


	3. Chapter 3: Differences and Confessions

"Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention," Nick said to the farmer kneeling before his throne. "I'll have some men sent out to expel the rogues from your lands."

"Thank you, sire," the man said, bowing gratefully. "My family thanks you; I and all my neighbors thank you." Clearly afraid of overstaying his welcome, he shuffled away as soon as he had spoken these words.

Nick rubbed his jaw worriedly as the man left. He was stretching his troops a bit thin; there hadn't been time to build a proper army since his father's death. Still, he could hardly afford to lose the harvest provided by one of the most fruitful regions of Cypress, nor have his people's sense of security broken.

Aloud he announced, "I will receive one more petitioner today. Any others who remain must return tomorrow. Extend my apologies to them."

"Your endurance is impressive, Your Highness," the Lady Sarah whispered to him. "You must have seen over 20 petitioners today. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I'm not. I'm merely admitting that my limits fall short of the ideal."

Truth be told, this was an understatement. Though the farmer was not the first to bring forth a serious problem that needed fixing, most of the petitions he'd received were either trivial and unworthy of his attention, or worse, outside of his ability to solve economically. He was beginning to feel exhausted.

"Sir Halron, of Castle Cypress," the attendant at the door to the throne room announced.

Nick frowned when he saw how young his final petitioner was. If he was fit for battle - and he certainly looked it - he was probably in the youth squads at the castle.

It was a safe bet, he decided. As Halron came to a kneel before him, he said, "You know that you can take any of your concerns before General Mayfair. She's been absent for some time, but she is due to return today."

"Yes, Your Majesty. But I'm afraid the problem I have concerns you directly." He raised his eyes to the king. "A friend of mine, a mage by the name of Varmo, was personally ousted from his leadership position by you. I understand that the post of leader tempore is now superfluous, but I believe he should be assigned a new post, rather than letting his talents go to waste."

"Varmo has proven himself incompetent for leadership," Nick said coldly.

"Please reconsider a moment, Your Highness. Are you not concerned that your dismissal of Varmo may be construed as favoritism?"

The king furrowed his brow. Was the youth attacking him, or was he simply tactless? "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific as to what you're referring to."

"Yeesha."

Nick did not allow the moment of silence that Halron was probably hoping for, but immediately answered, "Varmo's dismissal had more to do with his poor handling of our relations with Guardiana. That alone was sufficient."

Halron raised a piercing eye towards him. "I fail to see anything poor about the way my friend dealt with the Guardianans."

"That's understandable," Nick replied in a friendly tone, with just a hint of condescension. The young beastman had worn out his patience. "You're not a leader yourself. It would be best that you left such decisions in the hands of those who were meant to lead. You are dismissed."

Halron frowned as he got to his feet and took a step back. "I think you will come to reconsider your position on Varmo, Your Highness."

Returning his frown, Nick said, "Halron. I remember where I've heard your name now. You're the one who injured one of his fellow guards, aren't you?"

"That was... a mistake." He backed out of the room.

It was ironic. He'd already decided to give Varmo another chance; the young beastman's concern was unnecessary. He couldn't announce that decision, however. Varmo needed to forget about winning the post of a leader and think more about _being_ a leader. If he knew he was working his way to the former, it would defeat the purpose. Frankly, however, he was beginning to get a little tired of hearing about Varmo. If he was responsible for Halron's obnoxious petition, the troublesome mage was more pathetic than he'd thought.

He got up from his throne, passing his crown to an attendant. Lady Sarah cleared her throat and said, "If you will excuse me, Your Majesty, I have letters to write now. Barely a third of the nobility has sworn allegiance to you so far. There are many others who I believe I can easily convince, especially now that the war is over."

He nodded. "I thank you for your work, Lady Sarah. As it happens, I have personal matters to attend to, so your company will not be missed, except in an emotional sense."

The Lady Sarah went on her way, and as King Nicholas walked from the throne room he was left alone, rarely enough. He still had Gyan watching over Barro, though he'd decided that if he again saw nothing today, he would take him off that duty. He felt a bit foolish, really, for having wasted so much of Gyan's time on what was probably a simple figment of his imagination.

Still, even without Gyan's support and guidance these past weeks, by his own judgment he'd been performing his duties considerably better than before. Without Mayfair to distract him, he'd been feeling much more motivated and clear-headed. Things that he should have been able to devise before, such as the mutual solution to his potential problem with Emild's king and Varmo's shortcomings, had finally fallen into place. As delighted as he was that he'd be able to see her again today, Nick had to conclude that their separation had been good for him. Moreover, now that he'd had the time to clear his head, he felt ready to at last ask her to be queen.

His boots made a pleasant knocking echo down the empty corridor. Still feeling a bit worn-out from the petitions, he stopped to lean upon the windowsill. Outside, several of his guards - Randolf among them - were practicing with one of the youth squads. He spotted two of the most promising young guards, Binuto and Dawn. Mayfair told him that Binuto, in addition to being completely fearless, had already mastered over half the sword techniques the elder warriors had to teach him. Dawn had seemed barely average at first, but her performance in the mission to Iom was exceptional. Such a change appeared strange, but Nick's father had told him that many warriors need a taste of blood to motivate them to their full potential.

The king smiled. It was good to see the seeds of Cypress's future sprouting before him in full health. So focused was he on the sight, he was not aware of Mayfair's presence until his eyes turned from the window and found her at the far end of the corridor.

The realization of her stunned him for a moment. He hadn't been apart from her for anywhere near this long since they first met, all those months ago. In that time, he had forgotten not only how lovely she was, but how wise, how strong, how courageous, how fitted for motherhood. It felt almost like he was meeting her for the first time again, and coming to know her all in an instant. The feeling, unlike the infatuation which had prompted him to send her away, did not immobilize his reason in any way. Empowered by this stark knowledge that she was the best woman to rule Cypress with him, he decided that this was the right moment. He would ask her.

She was watching him with the air of one trying to come to a decision. He felt a strange touch of sympathy for her, having come to his over a month ago. Smiling with the simple gladness of seeing her again, he approached. "Welcome back, Mayfair."

She greeted him with a hard slap across his left cheek.

Her eyes were flashing with anger. _Definitely not the right moment._ "That was bold," he remarked with genuine admiration, rubbing at the sting in his cheek. "Might I ask the occasion?"

"Away from here," she answered, clutching at her heart in an apparent attempt to keep calm, "...away from the constant comings and goings, the more fractious children, the important councils... I've had time to think."

"About what?" he said in a conversational tone, though she was obviously about to tell him that anyway.

"Something that's been bothering me," she said patiently. Her eyes watched him warily, almost as though she suspected he would attack her at any moment. "Back at the shrine of Iom, you explained Hindel's betrayal by saying he couldn't forgive King Warderer for sending his brother into Cypress. That never sounded right to me. Why should Hindel be angry at his king for telling Deanna to do his duty? You've never been very honest with us, though you rarely actually lie, so I began to wonder if you weren't covering up the real reason Hindel betrayed Warderer."

Nick nodded slowly. He could lie again, or make the old lie more elaborate. But would she believe him now? Better to just play it straight; what he'd done was easily forgivable. "I should have guessed that you'd pick up on that sooner or later."

"So I was right." Her hands clenched with rage. "The only thing that would make Hindel betray Iom is if his brother's life was at stake. You were using Deanna as a hostage all along, sparing his life in exchange for Hindel doing your every whim."

There was silence a moment, as Nick struggled with what she'd just said.

He looked her in the eyes, and compulsively brushed a hand over his arm. "Close, but you got one very important detail wrong. It was Hindel who contacted _me_, offering to betray Iom if Deanna was protected."

"Don't throw technicalities at me, Nick," she snapped. "How could he have known that Deanna was in your hands, unless you told him?"

"He wasn't in my hands. Not then."

"Then why did Hindel contact you?"

"Because he knew Deanna was hopeless as a fighter. He knew that as soon as he encountered enemy troops, he'd either be captured or killed. He wanted me to prevent that from happening."

"Good spirits, you expect me to believe that? I've seen Deanna fight."

"I found it a bit incredible myself when I saw him in the shrine of Iom," Nick admitted. "You're even more amazing than I gave you credit for, Mayfair. You managed to train a lamb into a lion."

"I did no such thing." Mayfair stepped forward so that their bodies nearly touched, and glared up at him like a teacher reprimanding an oversized pupil. "The truth, Nick. Is that so hard?"

"I've given it to you." He shrugged. "I'd show you Hindel's letter to prove it, but it has information that I believe he wanted me to keep confidential."

"It doesn't matter. You know I've never seen Hindel's writing; you could have easily forged such a letter."

"Then I suppose you'll just have to ask Deanna."

"I'm not going to waste my time," she said, shaking her head. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Nick. Using a sweet boy like Deanna to give you a simple edge."

"I am. Why do you think I didn't tell you the truth before? But I never threatened Deanna's life."

"According to your word," she retorted. "I know how much that is worth."

She turned and began walking away. Nick called softly, but in a stern tone, "Mayfair." She stopped, and turned her head slightly to look at him. "You do realize... for the good of Cypress... certain things need to be done?"

"Good spirits, Nick! I'm not naive," she snapped. "But necessity doesn't give you the right to do whatever you please. One wrong isn't as bad as another, and what you did was wrong beyond all decency. To take such a noble feeling as brotherly love and twist it into a weakness... something like that is _never_ necessary. There are too many other options, ones which don't favor those who behave heartlessly over those who love."

"Heartless? You think I'm heartless?"

"No. You just act like it." She shook her head. "I'm a realist, Nick; I believe that as sovereign of Cypress, you should be free to do whatever you think needs to be done for the good of Cypress, no matter how much I or anyone else disagrees with it. I can't be angry with my king." Her expression had changed gradually, Nick noticed. She looked almost sad. "But I can be angry with the man I thought was my friend."

As she walked away, Nick said loudly, "I'm sorry that you think so little of me."

_Dammit. Should have seen this coming._

_She'll learn the truth eventually, of course. I don't think we've seen the last of Deanna, and I'll have him tell it to her whether she wants to hear it or not. But that will likely be years from now. An exasperating delay, to say the least. It'd take less time for me to earn her forgiveness for something I didn't do. Not that what I actually DID do wasn't loathsome enough._

_Sweet Cypress, what am I saying!? I had an asset and I used it... that's all. My father would have commended me for lying to Hindel, for telling him Deanna was safe with us when I had no idea where he was at the time. His only complaint with my not informing Mayfair of who he was would have been the failure to cover all scenarios, not the failure to honor my agreement with Hindel._

_And yet... I wasn't lying when I told Mayfair I was ashamed for having used the two of them. Agreeing to Hindel's treachery doesn't bother me; he was the one who made the offer, after all. But my failure to properly protect the two of them..._

King Nicholas shrugged his shoulders and began walking towards his study. _Hindel wasn't even a Cypressian. Why should I care?_

_Why?_

----------------------

The question faded from his mind over the next few days, but the problem with Mayfair was not so easily forgotten. When he had the chance to observe her with others, he saw that she was as warm and caring as ever. With him, however, she kept her emotions completely out of sight, responding to anything he said with cold dutifulness. Rather than fight it, he allowed his attitude to mirror hers. To apologize would be to admit guilt that was not his, and argument had already proved ineffective.

He found another problem waiting for him as he went into his study. A note was lying on his desk. In simple block letters that were probably used to disguise the handwriting, it read, "We represent the Kyantol Alliance. The poor representation of kyantols in governing positions has gone too far under your reign. We know you have a young boy named as your heir and kept in secret on castle grounds. This information will become public if you do not correct the situation of our race to our liking."

He handed the note to Gyan, who snorted as he read it. "Who does he think he's fooling? There are several kyantols in high positions around Cypress; the only one at Castle Cypress even remotely eligible for a position who doesn't have one is Varmo."

"It is a bit obvious," Nick agreed. "Which suggests to me that this note is the work of someone trying to make Varmo look bad. On the other hand, maybe he's desperate enough to take a gamble. And since we can't _prove_ he wrote the note..."

Gyan nodded grimly. "So either way, there's a threat to Barro."

"I don't think so. The only people who would want to defame Varmo are here at Castle Cypress. So either way, we're dealing with someone within these walls. I doubt that anyone so close to the heart of Cypress would really risk having the sole heir to the throne come to harm. Especially with virtually nothing to be gained from carrying out their threat."

"So... it's not a problem?"

"Oh, it _is_ a problem," Nick answered, nodding his head vigorously. "If at all possible, I'd like you to twist off the head of whoever wrote this note. But we don't know who did it, and there's no point in wasting resources in protecting Barro from empty threats. If whoever wrote this had the guts to do him harm, they'd have kidnapped him themselves and held him for ransom. Since they didn't, Barro can't be in any danger." He held up the note. "I think the best way we can stop this sort of thing from happening again is to ignore it. Let our enemies see how little it fazes us."

A long silence passed. Nick prodded, "Well...?"

Gyan shrugged. "What can I say? You make very good points. I think you're right on this one, as usual."

"I see." Nick slumped down in his chair. "So why don't I_ feel_ right?"

Gyan cocked his eye at him. "Mayfair's attitude is getting to you, huh?"

"Maybe." After staring into the distance for a few moments, he looked up at his friend suddenly. "Let me tell you a secret, Gyan - and mind you, this is for no ears but yours. I don't always do all my thinking for myself. Usually I do, but not always. When I said the best thing to do was ignore the note, I didn't reason that out for myself. I was merely saying what I know my father would have said."

"And you disagree with His Honored Majesty?"

"Aside from letting Woldol within the boundaries he set around himself and all he held dear, my father never regretted a single decision he made. I think I'd be a fool to argue with his wisdom." He stared down at his hand. "It simply... feels wrong to me, to ignore this threat. And I don't know why."

"You're used to doing things, Nick, solving problems with action," Gyan pointed out.

"True." He folded up the note and placed it in the hidden drawer of his desk where he kept his most secret papers. "I just wish I could sink this bad feeling."

"If you'd only stop fixating on it, you could. Is Mayfair going to handle that military alliance, like you wanted?"

"As a matter of fact, she's determined to have it all written up before she takes her leave to visit Stock." He smiled slightly. "She does her duty."

"Look, why don't I talk to her. I know all about your dealings with Hindel."

"No point in that. She trusts you less than she does me." He shrugged. "Let her be. The more we argue with her, the longer it will take her to realize she's made a big mistake. Now, have you any thoughts on the emissary from Sharland we received?"

----------------------

Mayfair went through the drills for the youth squads quickly, so that she could get back to work on the alliance with Emild. She'd been thinking that the kids should be starting to run their own drills now, but none of them seemed to have both the maturity and the severity to command their troops. Dawn, Varmo, and Gregor were beginning to look like possibilities, but she wasn't sure of any of them yet.

_Perhaps that's all there is to the problem_, she considered as she entered her room. _I can't be sure of any of them until I give them a try. At the least, fewer and fewer of the kids are being troublemakers._

She closed the door behind her and sat down at her desk. The half-written military agreement was there at the ready, and she was reaching for her pen when a voice broke in on her duty.

"You keep yourself busy."

Mayfair froze, an unpleasant tingling running down her back. "That voice..."

The intruder chuckled. "Recognize it, don't you? You should."

She spun around, though she expected that he would be out of sight before she could catch a glimpse of him. She was wrong. He stood before her, plain as day, though a dark mask covered his face, keeping even his eyes mostly obscured. Black fabric, unmarked by even the slightest feature or adornment, clung tightly to his lean form. "What do you want?" she demanded.

"You're rather hostile, aren't you?"

"You saved my life and the lives of my young charges on more than one occasion, for which I am sincerely grateful. But that doesn't necessarily mean that you're a friend."

He held out his bare hands towards her. "What would you have me do?"

"Why not tell me your name, as a start?" Her eyes watched him warily. Her staff was not near at hand, but a Hell Blast spell would knock him for a loop, and she was hardly incapable of fighting with her bare hands if need be. "It is rude not to introduce oneself, to say the least."

He folded his arms coolly. "I'm afraid I can't reveal my true name. If you wish to call me by name... call me Nick."

Mayfair was unamused. "You said you would reveal yourself when the time was right."

Chuckling, he replied, "Oh, but I was revealed. You know now that I'm an agent of the late General Hindel. If you took my promise to mean that I'd give you my name, that's no fault of mine."

_He certainly is stretching this game out. Of what worth could the secrecy of his name possibly be?_ "If you will pardon the change in subject: How did you get in here?"

"I recognized a couple of the youths standing guard. At least one of them is more lenient in his definition of 'friend' than you are." Mayfair made a mental note to have a word with them later. "To answer your original question, I came here to thank you. Deanna is proving to be a great help to the people of Iom; I daresay my lord would have been proud."

Mayfair shook her head. "You helped save our king. That makes us more than even."

"Ah, but your king was a valuable man before we had anything to do with him, whereas Deanna was utterly worthless until he came under your wing."

A frown settled over her face. "What are you talking about? Surely promoting someone as young as Deanna to the rank of sergeant isn't common practice in Iom?"

"If the young soldier's brother is general, who's to say no?" the Iomite chuckled. "General Hindel kept quiet about Deanna in front of others, but with his most trusted men he shared his disgust for his brother's weakness, his sincere doubt that he would ever amount to anything. He even claimed that he would abandon the boy in an instant if he were not too proud to abjure his brotherly duty." He gave Mayfair a cunning wink. "But of course, you and I know better, don't we?"

Mayfair was silent for a moment. Then she gave a heavy sigh and rested her head in her hand. "I dearly wish you could have come just a few days earlier."

"I don't pretend to understand what you mean by that... but once again, thank you." He reached out and gave her free hand a friendly shake. Caught by surprise, she left the hand limp. "It's a comfort in this unhappy world to see something of my lord in Deanna. Thank you from the bottom of the heart. And now, I will see myself out."

He released her hand and turned back to the door. "You came here just for that?" Mayfair said, freezing him just as he lay his hand on the doorknob. "All the way from Iom, just to thank me? Impossible."

"True," he said, with a slight laugh. "I'd hoped you wouldn't ask that. Well, simply put, I like to be familiar with the important military outposts of alien nations. Their fortifications, inner workings, and the sort. You never know when it may be of use." He opened the door, then turned to give a final bow. "Fare thee well, general."

----------------------

Opportunities to speak to Nick privately were rare these days, so Mayfair went to his bedroom as soon as she finished dressing the next morning. She gave his door the lightest of raps, though she was almost certain he'd be awake at this point.

"Speak," his voice answered.

"It's Mayfair," she said at an elevated volume. "May I speak with you?"

"Give me ten seconds to make myself fully decent."

To amuse herself, Mayfair silently counted the seconds. She got to eight before he opened the door, dressed not only in pants and tunic, but with cloak, gloves, and boots. "Good morning, Mayfair. Please come in."

She stood still for a moment, startled by his opening the door. "Nick, you... you're not supposed to answer the door yourself. You're supposed to simply say when I have permission to enter."

"Well, I... I was bred to show courtesy to women. A difficult habit to break out of." He closed the door behind her as she entered. "It's been a couple days since you've called me 'Nick'."

"I want to apologize for doubting you." She looked quickly to his face. He was smiling. "It's not easy for me to admit being wrong, you know," she said with a stern look.

"Sorry." He straightened his mouth.

"I'm supposed to help other people, not create problems of my own. I'm sorry, Nick. I should have known."

"You made one little mistake, a harmless one at that, and you've corrected it in no time at all," Nick began, but Mayfair interrupted before he could utter another sentence.

"I broke up our friendship. That's not harmless. And it was solely by the gods' blessing that I learned the truth."

"Care to elaborate?"

She shook her head. "It's not important." She didn't care to trouble him with the knowledge that an intimate of Iom had been inside the castle. In all likelihood the Iomite wouldn't be of any harm - Mayfair had made sure that he actually left the castle - and in any case, the security of Castle Cypress was her job.

"Mayfair." Nick's hand, suddenly grasping her shoulder, made her start. "It's alright. You're forgiven."

She nodded, but his eagerness to move past the subject puzzled her.

"I did wrong Deanna and Hindel. You probably already figured that out. I don't regret what I did to them; if only I hadn't misjudged Warderer, everything would have worked out for the best. But I am sorry for doing it. I don't want to take advantage of people like that anymore; I want to give the people I use what they deserve."

Mayfair smiled. "I think that attitude is part of what Dava was talking about when she said you would surpass your father. At the least, it's part of you, part of the Nick I call friend."

Nick cleared his throat. "Then there's no point in putting this off any longer." His hand slid down from her shoulder to clasp her fingers. His eyes showed something she had never seen even the faintest glimmer of in him before: self-doubt. "Cypress is in need of a queen. When my father became king, it took him nearly a year to find the perfect woman for the job. I've been luckier; I had her close at hand when the crown first settled on my head." His grip on her fingers tightened just slightly. "Mayfair, will you be my queen?"

All Mayfair could do in response was stare. She wasn't sure which was more shocking: the proposal itself, or its absurd timing. Though she had felt it best to compliment his honesty and promise to be more just, to encourage him in that direction, she was still disturbed by his dishonorable treatment of Deanna and Hindel. Did he honestly think now was a good time to speak of marriage?

Noticing that he was watching her face for any sign of an answer, she pulled her hand free of his. "Nick... no, I can't. I'm sorry."

He took a step back, as though struck by a physical blow. "I... Why?"

The question was so foolish, so pointless, that it spoke more of how hard her refusal had hit him than his step of retreat did. When it came to matters of importance, Nick always spoke with surety and purpose. Mayfair cast her eyes down. "Nick... I do feel that you and I connected deeply, almost as soon as we met. And we've come to know each other very well. But... I don't _love_ you. Nor do I believe that you truly love me."

"I never claimed otherwise, for either you or me."

"Then why did you ask?" she said gently. He was plainly trying to retract his hasty confession. It made her feel sorry for him.

Nick looked hard at her. "What does love have to do with it? Cypress needs a female embodiment of her glory, someone to bear an heir to the throne. The question of who takes on that role is not trivial. The more strong and wise her queen, the better Cypress will thrive under her reign. That's all that matters. The king's love for a woman does nothing to help his people. It may even hurt them."

"That's... a commendable choice, to sacrifice your marriage for the sake of Cypress." She was somewhat taken aback. Nick was speaking with unshakable certainty again, but what he was saying was so... soulless. "But it's still a marriage. How could we ever act as proper husband and wife, without love?"

Nick's gaze did not falter. "If we wait for love to choose our spouses for us, then we wait in vain, and I will never have a child to take the throne of Cypress. We're young still, but we've both had those we most love violently torn away from us already. Do you really think that after the pain I've suffered, that I would make myself vulnerable to that same pain again? To love..." He shook his head. "That's something I don't think either of us is capable of."

"You know nothing of what I'm capable of," Mayfair said, her face reddening with anger. "I love Stock. I love Natasha as if she were my own child..."

"Exactly!" Nick interrupted. "That sort of love is one of the foremost reasons why I think you would be the perfect woman to mother my children. But loving a child is different than loving a husband; there's no need to make yourself vulnerable to the one you love. You remember how you let Natasha go, don't you? Wasn't it easy to set her free for the sake of her happiness?" Mayfair was silent. "It didn't hurt at all, did it? Those were tears of joy, you told me. I think you'd even persevere if Stock said he never wanted to see you again. Is there anyone you can honestly say you've opened up your heart to?"

"Stop it."

Nick faltered, and a look of concern began to faintly manifest in his eyes. She knew why; she could feel the tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he amended. "I should have said from the beginning that you don't need to make your decision right now. You can think about it as long as you like."

"No, Nick." She raised a hand to wipe away her tears, but did not bother to hide the hurt and anger from her voice. His self-serving apology did nothing but add to them. "I'll admit that you've hit me right where it hurts, but I'm perfectly capable of reasoning in spite of my emotions. I've thought about your proposal as long as I need to, and the answer is no. Maybe you're right... maybe I'll never be able to love a man. Maybe I'm dooming myself to dying childless and alone." At those words, her voice cracked. "Well, so be it. I refuse to marry a man I don't love. That would only be worse. My answer is no, Nick, and that's not ever going to change."

Not trusting herself to say more without breaking down, Mayfair left the room with as much dignity as she could manage.

----------------------

A moment after Mayfair left, Gyan poked his head in. "What was that about?"

Nick took a seat on the end of his bed. "Nothing of importance. Would you leave me for a few minutes?"

"You're already running a bit behind this morning, Nick. We have a lot to do yet."

"I'll get it done. Leave me."

Nick did not bother looking up to see Gyan's reaction, but merely waited until he heard the sound of the door closing. He then fell back onto his bed and squeezed handfuls of sheets in his fists as though he were squeezing blood from a rock.

_Damnit. I've... lost._

Even after all he'd won - no, perhaps _because of_ all he'd won - this frustrated him beyond all comparison. He had a secure homeland, power and wealth at his command, justice upon his family's killers, but without the ideal queen at his side, it was incomplete. He did not have perfection of happiness. It was greedy of him to ask for that, he knew. But shouldn't at least one person in this world have a chance at that?

_Blast it! I know I don't really deserve it all... but I wanted it so badly._ He heard a ripping sound, and looking down, he realized he'd torn the bedsheets in his frustration.

The shock of this childish destruction gave him a chance to calm down. Sitting up, he reminded himself that Mayfair was not the only good choice for a wife. There were plenty of worthy women out there; it would just take a bit of looking. Inter-marrying with the princesses of neighboring nations was always a useful diplomatic tactic, though that was a task he'd planned on reserving for his sons. He had a multitude of good choices for wives.

_But I don't want _them_. I want her. Other women may be strong, wise, or beautiful, but she... she is perfect. Mayfair is Cypress personified: a survivor, a conqueror, a sage._ With painful imagination, he could see her with the diadem upon her head, could feel how the very concept of King Nicholas with Queen Mayfair at his side would make the nations tremble in awe. His chest clenched at the thought of what magnificent children a woman like that would bear him, children that would never be.

_No... I can't..._ He shook for a moment, then suddenly stood up and proceeded to fix his appearance in the mirror. He wiped away each little blemish until his look was firm once more. _I can't give it up. I can't accept defeat. I _won't.


	4. Chapter 4: No Surrender

Mayfair introduced herself to his force at Asreet Island, but he didn't really talk to her until late that night. He still thought of that night as their first meeting.

His nightmares were running strong at the time, and the ones he had that night were particularly bad. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that they were now invading beloved Cypress. He jolted up out of his sleep, breathing hard and sweating. Looking around, he saw his new allies all still sleeping soundly on the cots laid out for them in the basement of the church, except Mayfair and Ruce. Remembering that Ruce's was the third watch, he realized it must be deep into the middle of the night.

_Well, I'm not getting anymore sleep tonight._ Sighing, he got off his cot, stretched his quivering limbs, and wandered up to the main level of the church. Some fresh air would probably do him good.

Ruce was sitting in the church, keeping his eyes about. Nick notified him that he'd be outside. The doors opened smoothly, without creaks or other noise.

The night was disappointingly warm, giving no relief to his sweat-soaked skin. He walked about aimlessly, trying to work away his phantoms by the reminder that the plan he'd set in motion would soon banish them all, when he spotted her standing alone. Somehow, he had thought she'd be somewhere in the church; that would have fit better with her profession.

He smiled. Their both being outside in the middle of the night was a serendipitous occurrence, and this put him in a playful mood. Remembering that she was blind, he approached the girl with quiet steps, not bothering to conceal himself when she happened to turn towards him.

It was difficult to suppress the laugh that tickled at his throat. There she was, standing in the moonlight like a girl waiting on her lover, looking directly at him, yet unaware of his presence. And he, standing within six feet of his target with no cover, like the most bumbling of stalkers.

As he came still closer, he could fairly make out her features by the moon's light. This made him pause, for there was something so lovely about the way she was simply standing there, doing nothing, perfectly at peace with herself and the world around her. She was a vision of absolute serenity. It was almost a shame to shatter it.

He was just about to grab her by the shoulders when her fist shot out at him from nowhere. His reflexes were well-honed enough that he caught it, but she was surprisingly strong. The unexpected force of her strike knocked him off-balance, and with a loud cry he fell to the ground. She was upon him in an instant, pinning both his wrists to the ground.

It was an easy hold for him to break, but there was no need. "You!" Mayfair gasped. "The leader... Nick, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it's me. I was just playing a little joke."

"Good spirits, you scared me half to death!" She quickly got off of him and pressed a hand to her breast. She was breathing heavily. "Don't ever do that again! If I hadn't recognized your voice when you cried out, I could have really hurt you."

"My apologies," he said, unconsciously slipping out of his imitation of peasant speech. He sat up. "It was thoughtless of me. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." She spoke with refreshing sincerity.

"It's rather dangerous to be out where Ruce can't see you, you know. Even if you are very alert. How did you know I was there?"

"When deprived of the gift of sight, one learns how to listen. And what of you? What are you doing out here, where you say it is so dangerous?"

"There's a bit of a story to that. I'll share it, if you'll grant me a minute or two to retrieve a candle."

"Why didn't you bring one in the first place?"

He shrugged and gave a sly grin, though he knew she could see neither. "I didn't think I'd find anything out here worth seeing."

Her head bent down then, and he imagined that she was blushing, though it was too dark to make out the color of her cheeks. "Very well. Go ahead."

There were plenty of candles in the church, and he managed to find a candleholder. As he lit it from Ruce's lamp, it struck him that he was conversing with Mayfair not because he had to, but because he wanted to. It had been too long since he had spoken with another of the upper class. There was Lowe, of course, but as much as Nick respected the old codger, it was blindingly obvious that he had more humble roots. Mayfair, on the other hand, was even more dignified than her parentage suggested she would be.

As he returned to where she sat, she said loudly, "Is that you, Nick?"

"It is."

"Good." Her tone relaxed. "Try to announce yourself when you come near."

He could have slapped himself. "Forgive me. I should have thought of..."

"No, I should have told you." She patted the ground beside her. "Will you sit with me?"

He hesitated. "You never said you wanted to talk to me, did you? I shouldn't have imposed."

"Please. Sit. I feel safer with you keeping me company."

He obeyed, setting the candle down on the ground. "If you want to feel safe, why aren't you inside?"

She sighed. "I used to feel safe in churches. They were the places where healing and piety lived. But now..." She drew her knees up to herself. "...I don't think I can feel safe anywhere anymore. It doesn't matter where I am, only if I'm with friends. That's the only way I can feel safe."

"I understand. That's the way I've been feeling as well." He poured a hopeful note into his voice. "Most likely these feelings will go away once this war is ended."

"Then you too were restless tonight?"

"Nightmares."

"What sorts of nightmares?"

"About my sister... how she was killed." He had nightmares about his father's death too, but with far less frequency. Though he'd loved him more than his sister, he hadn't actually seen him die.

"You can tell me about it."

He shook his head. "I'm sure it is as nothing compared to what you've gone through. You have enough pain without mine to deal with."

"To comfort people is my profession," she said, reaching about until she laid her hand on his. "Let it out."

The words were probably no more than rote, but her sincerity was plain. Even so, he was hesitant to give out his past. There were too many clues to his true identity there. _But what harm is that? She's a fellow Cypressian. Dammit, I still shouldn't do it._ He wiped his free hand over his face. "Promise you won't tell this to the others."

"I promise," she said, her tone puzzled. He could guess why. She was trying to figure out why he would tell her, whom he'd only just met, something that he didn't want shared even with his friends.

"I was out late, on some sort of midnight adventure with a friend." He began, naturally enough, with a lie. The truth was that he had been out practicing nighttime combat with his trainer. These night sessions were done impromptu, so that he would be as sleep-deprived as if he were under a real surprise attack. "To avoid being caught, I climbed the side of the house to my second story window." His royal bedroom was set considerably higher than the second floor, and scaling the wall was just another matter of physical conditioning. He'd counted off the seconds as he ascended, hoping to beat his current record, and silently repeating what his father had said about a sound body and a sound mind. "My sister's room was next to mine. Joined to it by a door, in fact. When she was little, she would come to my room whenever she couldn't sleep. Often I awoke with her sleeping in my bed, never knowing she'd come in."

Mayfair smiled. "You're lucky to have had a sister. I was an only child."

He nodded. "That wasn't the only use we had for that door. We'd often meet at night to tell each other stories, or simply talk. That night, as I climbed the wall, I heard shouts coming from her room, so I climbed over to her window instead of mine."

He took a deep breath. "They had broken down the door. Four of them, at least. They were dressed in Cypress uniform, but they must have been Woldol's personal henchmen; they weren't interested in my sister surrendering. There was a sword on the floor. I suppose she armed herself when they started breaking down the door." His sister had never taken much interest in the art of combat, and his father had accepted that. "I saw her - they had her cornered, and their blades were drawn. She saw me... she called my name. Her eyes were filled with terror. And I..."

He stopped there. He couldn't say it. He shouldn't have even started telling this to anyone who was not of his family.

"You fled," Mayfair finished, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. Nick refused to acknowledge her statement, but he didn't need to. She must have known what he'd done as soon as he told her that he'd seen his sister's killers. When the silence had stretched out for half a minute, Mayfair asked, "What was your sister like?"

"It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"I... I suppose not." Her grip on his hand loosened. "You loved her, didn't you?"

"Yes." He realized, belatedly, that a fellow Cypressian was the _last_ person he should have told this story to. How could she ever respect her king, knowing this about him? And yet... she was a woman of the church. She'd understand. "I should have fought for her."

"You would have only died with her."

"I know that. But the feeling I glimpsed in her face as I dropped out of sight - the terrible awareness that her brother had abandoned her unto death -" -he closed his eyes against the memory- "...I could have spared her that. I could have given her the comfort of being by her side at the moment of her death."

"That must have been terrible for her." She stroked the top of his hand. "But it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known you would have had to leave her."

"I shouldn't have left her at all," Nick returned, feeling the urge to cry. He held it in easily. "I should have stayed with her to the end."

"You don't really believe that. And I don't believe it in the slightest." The firm certainty of her voice surprised him. He looked to her face, momentarily forgetting that her eyes were closed to him. "Your life - any life- is worth far too much to be traded for a small bit of comfort at the hour of death."

He smiled shrewdly. "Even Woldol's?"

"Don't confuse the issue. I want Woldol dead, Nick, but only because of the thousands he has killed, the thousands more he will kill if we fail to stop him, and the horrible things he did to me. Of itself, his life is still valuable." She smiled. "Yours, more so."

Nick was impressed. After all she'd been through - the suffering, the loss, the fear - Mayfair still had the strength to comfort another.

It was a significant moment. The same conversation that first revealed her fortitude to him had revealed his weakness to her: not that he had abandoned his sister, but that he had felt guilty for doing so. True, that feeling had come over him after terrible trauma, and he could easily laugh at it now. However, Mayfair surely would not forget that whereas she had been strong in the wake of her trials, he had been weak in the wake of his. Could that be the real reason she had rejected his proposal?

_No... It can't be. She knows I have great fortitude in most th- in all things. It was a moment of guilt, no more._

This left him with no real choice but to accept her refusal at face value. The solution, then, was laughably simply, but painful to contemplate. It would be worth it, however, if it persuaded her to say yes. If it would give him a clean sweep of triumphs.

He turned his face towards Yeesha, who was busy polishing the sculptures and vases which adorned his room. "Yeesha," he asked, with an affected air of curiosity, "...do you know much about love?"

"Firsthand, Your Highness?" she answered, without sparing a glance away from her work. "Very little. But I've observed plenty through my students."

The last notes of her reply were raised; she was making an effort to sound ready to answer any question he might have. Undoubtedly because of a desire to hear what he would ask.

Nick decided to disregard her nosiness; Yeesha knew better than to gossip, and it was worth it to obtain her advice. "Tell me... How does it happen?"

She stopped, bent her eyebrows at him. "What do you mean?"

He took a moment to carefully choose his words. "Suppose a man comes to know a woman, and finds she has all the qualities he considers ideal. How does the irrational part of love happen? How does he become infatuated?"

Yeesha cracked into a light laugh. "Nick, there's more to it than that!"

"Yeesha," he snapped.

The bright look on her face vanished. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

"Please try to remember the appellation. Believe me, I take no pleasure in correcting you." He gave her a nod. "Continue."

"Your Highness... you can only love the right person for you. It has to be someone who fills something in you, a need you probably never knew you had. It could be anything... a purpose in life, a new strength. Even just a return of affections."

"And how does one know that this person is filling one of those needs, those missing parts?"

She shrugged. "I suppose the easiest way is if you constantly long for that person whenever they're not around."

Nick sighed inwardly. In the weeks she'd been gone, he had not missed Mayfair even one iota. Perhaps he'd idly wished for her company a few times, but that was it. Assuming Yeesha knew what she was talking about, it wasn't only that he didn't feel capable of falling in love; Mayfair wasn't the one he could fall in love with.

_Well. It was a bad idea anyway. I'm sure Mayfair can be made to see reason._

----------------------

Mayfair managed to keep herself thoroughly busy for the next several days, but he finally cornered her in her study. Without looking up from the paper she was working on, she asked, "What is it, Nick?"

"An apology." He didn't need to fake the emotion in his voice; being denied even the simply joy of her cool face was enough. Somehow, her name had joined Gyan's in the short list of those he truly considered his friends. Perhaps all her talk of him being her good friend had convinced him that it was actually so. "I'm so sorry for the last thing I said to you."

"There is no need. You only spoke the truth."

"No. At best, I unfairly exaggerated the truth." He was still talking to her back. "You're different from me. You place a high value on love, and should it come your way, I think you would seize it. I was so desperate to have you accept my proposal that I used the first tactic that came to mind: deluding you into thinking you had no other choice."

"You're saying that only because you want to sensitize me to a renewal of your proposal."

Nick smiled bitterly. _I've trained her too well with my lies._ "I don't deny that. It's still the truth." He stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I still think you were hasty in your decision. Have you even considered how much good you would do for Cypress as queen?"

"Much less that I can continue to do as general," she rejoined, but warmth had returned to her voice.

"During peacetime? Even when war comes again, the value you would have as the emblem of Cypress is immeasurable."

She blushed, but not from pride. "I think I would be a pitiful and homely emblem, not that it matters. I'm sorry, Nick, but I just couldn't stand it - acting as wife to a man I don't love."

"You speak as if that sort of thing were uncommon. My mother and father never loved each other, you know."

"They told you that?"

"They didn't need to. There were thousands of little things that showed it. They never kissed, except when they were in the public eye. Often when my mother was upset, my father didn't notice."

Mayfair laid down her pen and shook her head. "It's not good for children to see a lack of love between their parents. Forgive me, Nick, but I don't want to follow your parents' example."

"Then who do you suggest the king of Cypress should marry? I've told you I could never love a woman, and if I did love one, the odds are against her being a suitable queen."

"I don't wish to discuss this any further," Mayfair said wearily. She got up from her desk and handed him the paper she was working on. It was the proposed military alliance with Emild. "With your permission, I would like to leave here early tomorrow."

Nick nodded. "Of course. You can think the matter over during your leave."

"Good spirits, if I didn't know better I'd think you were actually in love with me." She smiled at him with gentle condescension. "I told you, Nick. My answer is no, and always will be."

"I hear you." He reached up and brushed a stray hair away from her face. "But whatever you may think, I'm certain beyond all doubt that no one is more fit to be queen of Cypress than you. If there's even a ghost of a chance of you marrying me, I don't want to let it slip away. And so, with all due respect, I'm keeping my proposal open indefinitely."

She stared at him for a long moment. There was a chance, however slight, that his sheer persistence might persuade her that his proposal was worth accepting. Not now, though. Without another word to him, she turned and left the room.


	5. Chapter 5: see inside for title

- Chapter 5: The Old Dowager and the Young Maid -

Against the arched eyebrows of the servants in charge of preparing her transportation, Mayfair ate a quick and informal breakfast that morning, pulling out fruits and roughage from the cupboards and downing them as swiftly as she could. Thanks to the roughage, her body was prepared for her to relieve herself almost immediately afterwards. Thus, when she boarded the cart to take her to Stock's residence, the sun was not yet fully risen.

The cart was plain and inconspicuous, and for that reason she could take a much lighter armed escort than usual; none would expect the chief general of Cypress to be riding in such a drab vehicle. Guards were needed only for bandits. Aside from the driver, she was accompanied only by two dwarves and an archer.

It was over a day's journey to Stock's residence, so she had plenty of time to think, though she spent as much time as she could conversing with her guards.

Nick's proposal still bothered her, and not merely because the idea was so repugnant. Ever since Woldol's shadow passed over her life, she had devoted herself to the happiness of others. The struggles she had borne made her feel old, with her life in twilight, and as was appropriate to an elder, she spent her days making sure that young flowers would properly bloom. She was pleased with how she'd done with it. The war with Iom had gone well, and she had witnessed many of the youths in the Cypress army overcome old weaknesses, mature, and find new love for life. It was good to live for others.

His proposal had disturbed that course. The suggestion of marriage had made her truly think of herself, for the first time in over a year. The picture she saw there was rather bleak. She was still single and childless, and had no good prospects for that to change anytime soon. Even her friends were few; she was only really close to Stock and Nick, though she counted Claude and Gyan as friends as well. And in the austere position of general, she was unlikely to make new friends.

They spent the night at an inn. It rained heavily, and Mayfair sat up against the frame of her bed, the blanket clutched against her nightgown, watching the drops pummel the window pane. Thunder frightened her when she was a child, she remembered. Very few things could frighten her now. Instead, the staccato beats of the rain, devoid of any harmonic accompaniment, made her feel lonely.

_Why can't I be content? Hundreds of people are better off because of my actions. I've been blessed with purpose such that most people can only dream of. Why isn't a solitary life of giving enough for me?_

She sighed. It was only Nick's suggestions, combined with the dreary night, which was making her feel down. She reminded herself that most of the time, she was quite happy with the life she'd chosen. Slipping beneath the covers, she put her loneliness and doubt to rest.

As she went to board her cart the next morning, she noticed her reflection in one of the large puddles left by the rain. It had been a very long time since she'd last looked at herself, and she realized that in spite of her feelings of age, she was in fact quite young, and ripe for child-bearing. She wasn't bad-looking, either. Not beautiful, certainly, perhaps not even pretty; but not bad. Emotional issues aside, there was no reason why she couldn't still start a family. To have children of her own, rather than clutching orphans like Natasha to her bosom.

She turned away and boarded the cart for the last leg of her journey. It was impossible. Nick had been right the first time; she couldn't conceive of putting her heart at risk in that way. It had never occurred to her before how alone her perpetual chastity would leave her.

----------------------

When they arrived, they found Stock pulling a hoe through the soil. He unhitched himself when he saw Mayfair, and she ran forward to hug him.

Stock groaned as she held herself against the warm familiarity of his coat. "Cut it out, would you? I've told you not to do that."

She laughed. "Stock, it's been months since I last saw you!"

"I'm not your damn uncle," he returned, firmly pushing her off.

She was accustomed to how he acted gruff to protect himself from his emotions, however, so she simply smiled and said gently, "I know it's hard, but you really should try to get past -"

"I don't want to get past it!" he snapped. "I've gotten along just fine for over a year now without 'working out' my feelings about my family being murdered. I don't need you meddling with my way of dealing with my grief! If that's what you want to do, then you can just hop in that cart and go back home."

Stock glared at her, breath heaving from his brief tirade. In the silence between them, Mayfair could hear the clopping of hooves as the cart pulled away with her escort.

Then she broke down, her small body shuddering with dry, convulsive sobs that were followed a few seconds later by freely running tears. She was acutely aware of how pathetic she must look, but she couldn't stop.

Stock's face fell. "Aw... Aw, kid... Hey, don't cry." He stepped up to her, putting one hand on her shoulder, the other on the side of her face. "I didn't mean that. ...Geez, take it easy. I'm sorry."

She leaned against his front. Though his touch was comforting, she still couldn't stop sobbing. "No, it... it's not you, Stock. Other things have been up... upsetting me, and it just..."

"All came out at once, huh?" She felt his rough hand affectionately rubbing her back. "Geez, I haven't seen you this upset since... well, you know. You poor kid." He let her cry for a few seconds in silence, then offered, "C'mon, let's go inside. You ought to sit down for a minute."

She gratefully let him guide her to the homestead. It was a shabby little hovel, much poorer than she was accustomed to even before moving into Castle Cypress, but it was good to be able to sit down in a friendly place. Being a centaur, Stock of course had no chairs, but he did have a bench shaped to support the length of his equine frame, and she found it to be an adequate seat.

"Here," he said, offering a cup of water. "Have something to drink. Calm you down."

It was a bit amusing that he thought she needed to be told that, but Mayfair nodded and allowed him to mother her. A deep drink quieted the sobs coming from her throat. Stock brought over a slightly dirty cloth and dabbed at her cheeks.

"Thanks. You're the only person I could stand seeing me cry like that. A few tears now and then is okay, but if Nick were to see me sobbing that way, I don't think he'd ever look at me the same again." She began coughing, but after a few moments her throat felt clear again. She let out a relieved breath. "I suppose it's because you're the only one I know who still sees me as a child."

Stock grunted. "I think I'm the only one you still _act_ like a child around." He set the cloth aside. "Not for much longer though, eh?"

She looked at him with curious eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Took me a long time, but I noticed when you were directing us through Nick's trials... you're not a child at heart. You're an adult, through and through. You just feel like a kid around me because I'm part of your past. Heck, I've known you longer than anyone alive."

"I don't think that's it," she said, shaking her head. "I just know how to be both. I'm fond of being a child and being an adult."

"If you say so, kid." He walked to the end of the room and looked as though studying something outside, though his house had no windows through which he could see it. "You're going to get tired and forgetful of me soon, though; I can tell. You're completely involved in your work now."

"No," Mayfair said firmly. "I love you, Stock. I can always make time for you."

"What for? I don't need you, and you don't need me either. You have better things to tend to. You've got a mountain load of kids who look up to you as their parental figure. You've got a whole kingdom that looks to you to guide their army. You have a king who relies on you for all sorts of things. Don't pretend that being with me means more to you than all that."

Mayfair did not answer. She knew he was right - she had known it before he said it - but didn't want to speak it aloud. Instead she said, "I still like being with you, Stock."

"I'm flattered, kid," he said, unsmiling as ever, but obviously sincere. He turned around and faced her. "So what's been upsetting you?"

She sighed. "Nick asked me to marry him."

"Ah." He nodded. "That's another thing I noticed during the trials: all those looks he kept giving you. Looks of... of..."

"Acquisitiveness?"

"It was going to say adoration," Stock confessed, causing Mayfair to furrow her brows. _Adoration...? Could Nick actually be..._ "Your word sounds better, though. So he finally got up the courage, huh. Say, you want some lunch?"

"I brought a basket -" She stopped a moment to think. "The guards must have set my things down outside."

"Stay there. I'll get it."

A minute later he returned, carrying all of her things. Setting them down, he said, "Let me guess. You don't feel the same for him. And he was insistent."

Mayfair opened up the lunch basket, which she'd taken care to fill with Stock's favorite things, and began setting the contents out on the table. "I said I would never agree to marry him, and he _still_ wants me to think it over. That's not the whole of it, though. The suggestion of marriage makes me realize that... I'll never have a husband, or children. And I want to."

Stock appeared to puzzle over the matter for a minute or two, chewing contentedly on the lunch she'd brought. "I'm not saying he's an outstanding gentleman, but if you want a husband, what's wrong with marrying His Royal Highness?"

"It's not what you think, Stock. He wants to marry me strictly for objective reasons, because he thinks I'd be a good queen."

"How do you know?"

She put a piece of apple in her mouth. "He told me."

"Ahhh." Stock nodded knowingly. "Don't you get it? He has his pride."

"True, but I think I'd have... noticed... before..." She trailed off with a sudden loss of confidence.

"It's the same thing there. He has to be careful of how he shows his feelings."

"But..."

A rush of memories broke her protest. "...I was bred to show courtesy to women." "...I'm sorry if I was crueler to Jaron than necessary." "...I said that the rest of you are to stand as far back as possible. That goes double for you, Mayfair." "...Don't move; I'll get rid of it."

Little gestures of consideration, most of which she accounted for by her value to him as general. But did it all mean more than that?

"Hey Mayfair, you alright there?"

She came back to the present. Gazing up at Stock, she asked, "Do you really think Nick cares for me?"

He paused to consider. "Are you asking if I think he loves you? If so, then yes. But do I think he cares for you... No, I don't think that. I know."

----------------------

King Nicholas stood in a long silence, pondering the designs Jaron had laid out before him. They all showed variations of the same image: himself, walking triumphantly over a slain Iom, or carrying Iom's severed head, or cutting down Iom soldiers. Most of them displayed his arm as still made of stone.

Nick shook his head. "No good. The focus should not be on Iom's defeat; we don't want to build feelings of hatred or superiority towards Iom."

"I... I see," Jaron said nervously. "Perhaps this, then, Your Majesty?"

He pulled forth a design showing an idealized man and woman of Cypress, bearing a hoe and a sickle. They stood in the midst of a half-destroyed village, but their faces were alight with a new hope and strength.

A frown settled over Nick's face. "A bit... unorthodox, isn't it, to exclude the king himself from the coin?"

"Er... Yes." He reached to pull away the design. "I'm very sorry, Your Majesty. I don't know what I was thinking; I don't know what the artist was thinking -"

"Kindly allow me to consider the design in silence."

Jaron was surprised, but he stood quietly while the king gazed over the unconventional image.

At last he said, "An interesting idea, but not acceptable, I'm afraid. The people need something larger than themselves to look up to... not a hero to be glorified only of himself, but a leader to guide them towards their own triumphs. Without that image, they will be unsure of where their efforts are to be directed towards."

"Ah... yes. What of this one, Your Majesty?"

It was him in it, sure enough; unlike the others, it did not exaggerate his features into full maturity, but displayed him in his natural youth. His expression, however, showed a nobility and magnanimity that he knew even his handsome features could never convey. The unsheathed Sword of Hajya looked too big for any normal man to bear. He was aiming it in clear defense of a Cypressian man and woman who stood at his side, supporting him. Behind him were Gyan, Mayfair, Randolf, and Ruce, ready to obey his orders.

Nick stared at the image for a long minute. "Rather idealized, isn't it?"

"I... suppose you're right, Your Majesty. My apol-"

"It's perfect." He looked up from the design into Jaron's eyes. "You can start work immediately, I assume? Nothing is required of me but my approval?"

"Ah... Yes, Your Majesty."

"Very good. I have other tasks to tend to right now."

----------------------

From the shadow of a pillar, eyes observed King Nicholas as he passed down the hall. They were hesitant for a moment, but then their owner realized that he had come from the royal Treasurer's office.

As if there were any doubt at this point that His Majesty was not tending to the demand he'd been given. He'd had more than enough time now. The plan, at least in its original form, had failed. All that was left to do was prove to the king that he had something more serious to deal with than a mere bluff.


	6. Chapter 6: Dangerous Mistakes

- Chapter 6: Dangerous Mistakes -

The women were excruciatingly beautiful. Mayfair knew so, not because of how they measured up in her own eyes, but because of the way Nick was staring at them with adolescent wonder.

"Welcome," one of them said, her voice lemony sweet with youth and innocence. "We heard that you had a hard time getting here. Am I right?"

She was not to receive a reply. Nick was struck speechless, and Gyan was busy enjoying the king's helpless fascination. "Gyan... Wipe that grin off your face!" Mayfair reprimanded him.

The women swarmed over the group, two of them taking Nick by each arm and crooning, "Now, relax. Take it easy. Our boss has been waiting for you."

"These are beautiful ladies. Don't you think so, Nick?" Gyan inquired with a smirk.

"Your Majesty, this must be a trap!" Mayfair protested, but Nick simply let the women guide him along. Before she could press her argument, the sound of giggling caught her ear. She whirled around.

The women were mingling with the rest of their group, putting their charms on the human males, with some alarming success. Slade was delighted at the sight of the women - though Mayfair couldn't be sure if it was for sexual reasons or not - and was making no secret of his appreciation. The intentions of one of the seductresses were making Cray positively giddy, though he was at least more modest than Luke, who was nudging another one and saying in a feigned worldly voice, "Relax? I don't know about you, but I'm feeling up to something quite a bit more enjoyable than relaxing, if you know what I mean! I've been around quite a bit, darlin', and I know how to please 'em in every way. I can guarantee you'll enjoy yourself. Eh? Eh?"

At least she had no need to worry about Deanna. Two of the most scantily clad women were fawning over him, but he merely regarded them with discomfort and mild fright and moved all the closer to Natasha, whose hand rested securely in his. Natasha looked unflinchingly into their faces and said, "Thank you, but my_husband_ isn't interested."

Mayfair was pleased to note that Natasha chased the women away not out of jealousy, but to relieve Deanna's obvious nervousness; her faith in his loyalty was absolute. However, the fact that the exotic women were doubling up on Deanna only added evidence to her suspicions. Though it could be coincidence, most likely they were purposely giving extra attention to the leaders of the group. In itself, that was innocent enough, as shameful sensuality went. But other than when he was in battle, Deanna didn't have the manner or appearance of a leader at all. They couldn't have known to target him unless they'd been observing the force in battle.

Mayfair commanded the group, "Please, keep to yourselves!" and went after Nick. She was worried about the rest of them as well, but the safety of Cypress's sovereign had to come first, regardless of the inclination of her heart.

"I can't believe this!" she muttered, but loud enough for any to hear, as she ran to catch up with Nick. _I know Nick is a man, but he should have _some_ control over his hormones. He's not only endangering himself, and by extension everyone else in the force; he's being an embarrassment to the throne of Cypress!_

The women led King Nicholas into a quaint garden, graced by soft ferns and pools of water. Waiting for him there was an older woman whose mature features put the beauty of the others to shame. This was apparently the "boss" they had spoken of. She greeted Nick with a sensual smile. "Welcome. My name is Kisaragi. Everyone looks so tired. Why don't you relax?" Her voice did not have the silly saccharine quality of her maids, but as she went on, speaking in vaguer and vaguer terms, it gradually dawned on Mayfair that she was inviting the men to fornicate with them.

"That's disgusting! No thank you!" she burst out. Her clerical upbringing had given her a strong appreciation for sex as both the creating of new life and a beautiful symbol of the union between husband and wife. To reduce it to shallow pleasure was... utterly repulsive. To make it worse, the others had followed the women, and all of them were staring awestruck at Kisaragi - whether spellbound by her beauty or aghast at her offer, Mayfair couldn't tell. She only knew she had to stop this, now.

"Everybody, ignore her!" Mayfair cried desperately. She made a mad lunge to grab Nick, but two of Kisaragi's girls caught her. With one joint shove, they sent her sprawling into one of the little ponds dotting the garden.

Mayfair couldn't remember having ever been so humiliated. She didn't give her own embarrassment a second thought, however; the king was in danger. "Nick! Please, don't do this!" she pleaded.

Gyan(oh, how she loathed him now) was completely ignoring her, instead fixing Nick with a devilish grin. "Well... Nick, what do you think? Are you going to try THAT?"

But Nick wasn't looking at Gyan. Or Kisaragi, for that matter. He had turned to stare with undivided attention at Mayfair.

Ludicrously, she found herself blushing with humiliation at having her king see her like this. She was half caked with mud, completely soaked, prostrated on her hands and knees in the dirt. Her hair, which she always meticulously kept neat and modest, hung in wet locks over her face. She knew it wasn't her fault, but nonetheless, at that moment she was a disgrace to Cypress.

"No," Nick said. Mayfair's face drooped down in a breath of relief.

"Are you sure?" Gyan persisted.

"I don't make a decision when I'm not sure," Nick returned, his voice thick with anger. He stalked away from Kisaragi and Gyan, coming to Mayfair's side. Bending down, he helped her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." She did not lean on him for even a moment, but stood and watched Kisaragi warily.

Gyan was talking to her. "We must go now."

She smiled. "You have to leave now? Yeah, I thought so, too. But I cannot let you go!" Hearing soft movements, Mayfair looked around and saw that they were surrounded.

"The very same words I was about to say to you," Nick said darkly, drawing his sword. "Do not expect me to entertain an offer of surrender at any point in our battle. You gave up that right when you laid hands upon the general of Cypress."

----------------------

Mayfair blinked. For her... He'd resisted them for her sake, hadn't he? He had seemed willing to go along with them, until...

She shook herself out of her musings and pushed the blanket off her body. The coronation trials had unquestionably been the worst of her adventures. First there was those two drunks hitting on her, which had shaken her far more than she had let on. And then the humiliation by Kisaragi's girls... well, she was glad to push that set of bad memories from her mind. As she dressed herself, she could hear the shuffling of cookware coming from the kitchen; Stock was already up.

"Not such an early riser, I see," Stock remarked as she came in. He was setting up meat and sliced onion on the stove.

Mayfair smiled brightly. "Only today. I've had a lot on my mind."

"Well, sit down and think about breakfast."

He seemed to be in a good mood, so she decided not to risk spoiling it by giving him a morning hug. The house was quite cool, thanks to the thin walls and lack of windows, so she rubbed her arms where she sat.

Stock dodged all her attempts at chatting, but that was fine. She had always enjoyed his company more than his conversation, and it was enough to see his kindly face, hear his rough breathing, and once more share a meal with him.

After breakfast they went for a walk in the woods. They took their time as Stock showed her his favorite places. He enjoyed living in the wilderness now, he explained to her, because it gave him immediate access to his hunting grounds and provided the much-needed touches of peace and nature. He bent down to examine one of his traps. "Stock, are you lonely here?"

"If this is about my family -"

"It's not," she said quickly.

He said nothing for a minute. "I suppose so. It's better than having to live with someone else, though."

An idea struck her. "Do you think you could ever... love anyone again? As a wife, I mean?"

"I've told you, I swore loyalty to my wife, and that's a promise I'll keep till the day I die."

"Yes, but... suppose you became attracted to someone. What would you -"

"Never happen."

She waited for more, but that was the whole of his answer. "How do you know?"

"I don't look at other people that way anymore. Life doesn't interest me enough. Ever since my wife and children were killed... well, I'm only waiting for the day when I rejoin them. Nothing else really takes my interest."

Mayfair felt sick with sympathy. _I knew his loss had hit him hard, but he's never said anything like that before._ "Stock... you shouldn't -"

"Don't start."

"But -"

"I mean it. I don't like you talking about my family, either. That's my business."

"You're the one who brought them up!"

"Don't get smart with me. You're being a busybody, once again. I don't have to put up with this." He broke into a trot.

"Stock!" She had to run to keep up. "I just want to help you!"

He continued to ignore her. Her small body was quickly running out of energy, while he was getting farther and farther away. "Please..." she panted.

He slowed down just enough for her to catch up. It took a minute or two to get her breath back. "You can't give 'help' to someone who doesn't want it, Mayfair. You're smart enough to know that. Why are you so stubborn with me?"

"I thought... the answer to that... was obvious." Her face felt hot, so she started to fan herself. "If nothing in life truly interests you, why did you save me?"

For a moment he gave no answer. Then he reached down and ran his hand over the top of her head. The affectionate gesture, however small, made her heart feel warm and satisfied. "Because _you_ still have plenty of life left in you," he answered. "That's why."

----------------------

Working in the garden with Eruminshus was still one of Jane and Theo's favored ways to spend the time when they were both off-duty. It held a special place in their hearts as the activity which had brought them together, and that more than made up for the fact that in practical terms it was only simple labor. On this day the sun was shining less brilliantly than usual, so it was quite natural that they would find themselves walking between the rows of shrubs.

Jane was in a less than talkative mood - Theo guessed that she had had an unpleasant day of training - so they walked in silence. There was nothing awkward about it; it was simply a quiet opening to the time they were spending together.

Apparently it became too much at one point, though, because before Theo could detect the slightest change in the mood, Jane let out a playful giggle and jumped him.

"Hey!" he yelped. "We're gonna -" He lost his balance, and the two of them crashed through a thick clump of bushes. Theo closed his eyes against the scratching of branches and the painful thump of the hard earth. Once he'd landed, however, he allowed his eyes to pop open again. Jane was on top of him, but her gaze was focused elsewhere. He tilted his head back to see what she was looking at.

It was hard to tell from his skewed, upside down perspective, but he thought he recognized Barro sitting about a hundred meters off, his back to them. Standing frozen in place behind the young prince, turned to stare at him and Jane, was Halron.

Suspicion bloomed in Theo's mind in an instant, and he scrambled to his feet. Ordinarily he wasn't prone to distrust, but with the heir to the throne so vulnerable and near to Halron's hands... "Halron," he said, forcing a friendly and casual tone as best he could. "I didn't know that you liked to come here."

As Theo approached, the beastman stared at him coldly. Theo had hoped to see some uncertainty in those eyes; there was none. "You know that this boy is the current heir to the throne of Cypress, don't you?"

Theo couldn't think of a good answer. He had expected Halron to be evasive.

Halron nodded at his silence. "You're quite easy to read. Well, it's a shame you had to learn of this, but the boy and I will be leaving now." He again reached for Barro, who was now staring at him in bewilderment. Theo was equally immobile, unable to comprehend the fact that Halron was going to commit kidnapping in plain sight.

Then a rock came flying at the beastman from somewhere behind him. He deftly snatched it from the air. "I wouldn't try that again, miss," he growled at Jane. "You're far more likely to hurt yourself or the boy than me."

Jane's action prompted Theo to move. He ran to Barro. "Halron! What are you doing? If Varmo ordered you to jump from one of the towers, would you do it?"

"Varmo knows nothing of this. I want that perfectly clear."

"This is insane! King Nicholas will find Barro within hours, and you'll be lined up for the executioner if I tell him about this."

"You forget. I injured you, without provocation; you now have a grudge against me. Without evidence, an accusation from you won't hold."

"Theo...?" Barro said anxiously.

"I won't let him take you," Theo promised.

Halron cocked his head at him. "If you think you can even slow me down long enough for the boy to escape, you are sadly mistaken. Besides, you're wasting your time; the boy will not come to any harm. You have my word on that."

The first part of that was certainly true. Without his staff, Theo was next to useless in a fight. But... "You'll need to be here at Castle Cypress if you don't want His Majesty to know what you've done. You'll need to be with Barro if you don't want him to be hurt. You can't do both."

At last, Theo saw uncertainty in Halron's eyes. "That's... a small risk."

"They're big risks, both of them. Don't you see what you're doing? And all for -"

"Perhaps you're right." Halron abruptly stepped away. "And I have no wish to fight you again. ...I hope that you and your lady enjoy the afternoon."

As soon as he was gone, Theo fell to his knees and raised a clenched hand to his chest. "Sweet courage," he gasped. "...if I live long enough to have kids, it'll be no thanks to me."

He felt Jane's arms wrap around him, and instantly calmed. "Don't be so modest," she whispered. "You were great. And I don't know about you, but... that just put me in the mood for some major necking." She let out a self-conscious giggle.

"I'd love to. But not in front of Barro, and I'm not taking my eyes off of him until His Royal Highness gets here."

"Good thinking." She let go of him and got up, though not before planting a kiss on his cheek. "Wait here; I'll get him."

----------------------

Once again, King Nicholas found himself wishing that Mayfair was at hand. She'd be able to say whether or not the girl who'd told him Barro had been threatened was trustworthy or not. Not that he had many doubts.

He had to be careful to walk slowly and with dignity on his way to the garden. It wouldn't do to excite interest among the castle's denizens; indeed, it could put Barro in more danger. Once he was out of sight among the tall flowers and bushes, however, he broke into a rapid stride, quickly leaving Gyan and the girl behind.

He came to Eruminshus's shack and rapped on the door, ignoring the youth standing watch outside. The old gardener emerged, Barro by his side.

"Hmm. That was quick. Here he is, Your Majesty. A bit shaken, but no worse for the wear."

"Why didn't you tell me that you had told these two adolescents of Barro?" the king demanded.

"Eh? Thought I did. Ach, my memory's going all to pot. Well, with the way of it being while you were all off at war, and General Mayfair missing, I thought someone else should know. Those two are as trustworthy as they come, Your Highness."

"So it would seem. At least, they did nothing to Barro while you weren't watching him." He sighed. "Very well. You did right, but don't tell any others now." He turned to the young man, noticing just now that he had one of the most unpleasing faces he'd ever seen. "You are the one who prevented Barro from being stolen away, are you not? What is your name?"

Going down on one knee, he replied, "Theo, Your Highness."

"Get up. This is no time to stand on ceremony." Theo stood up, but kept his face lowered. "You say a single individual attempted to snatch Barro away."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Was it someone from Castle Cypress?"

"How did you -"

"I did not give you leave to ask questions. Who was it?"

Theo hesitated. "...Forgive me, Your Highness... I can't tell you. He won't try it again, I swear!"

Nick considered for a moment, then smiled kindly. "At least you've told me the truth. That's not enough, unfortunately. A conspirator never acts alone, and I must trace all the threads of the conspiracy. Give me his name."

"I..." The boy swallowed. He looked as though he'd rather die than face this predicament. "...I can't."

"You're mistaken if you think you're protecting this traitor. If you simply give me his name now, I promise you that he will face little beyond correction. If you do not, believe me that I will find out who it is eventually. And then he will be given the full punishment merited by those who threaten the royal family." He let that hang for a moment, then added, "I already have a list of prime suspects in mind."

Theo looked beyond him, and Nick turned to see that Gyan and the girl had arrived. "Jane... what am I supposed to do?"

She bit her lip a moment, then answered sadly, "It's not your responsibility, Theo. Hal- He made his own choice."

Theo cast his eyes down again. "...Halron."

"Thank you. You both will be properly rewarded for your service to Cypress."

The two of them moved to go on their way, but at the last moment Theo turned and said, "Pardon me, Your Majesty, but... two things. He said Varmo knew nothing of this. And... Halron hurt me badly in a fight not long ago."

It took Nick a moment to catch the implication, but once he did, he merely shook his head. "Barro witnessed the whole thing, did he not? That proves your accusation."

The youth nodded unhappily and went on his way, the girl at his side.

Nick turned to Gyan. "Watch over Barro. I'll arrange for a carriage to pick you up by the outer gate."

"You're having him brought into the castle?"

"We have to. This place is compromised."

----------------------

Nick waited in his study until he heard a knock at the door. When he opened it, a finely dressed man led in four boys. "Here they are, Your Majesty. A small selection, but fine lads all. Hopefully one is worthy enough to serve as your personal servant?"

The king made a show of giving each boy a long, careful examination, before at last selecting Barro. "This one will do nicely. See that the others are compensated for their time."

The man nodded and led the remaining boys out. Once the door was again closed, Barro looked up at Nick and smiled. "That was fun. Am I going to be staying in your room now, cousin Nicholas?"

"For a little while, yes."

His ear caught the sound of the door opening, and Gyan's voice came through. "You didn't say you were having him brought here, Nick. We'll never be able to keep him hidden this way. Why not one of the cellars, or an unused guard's quarters?"

"Because I can't keep an eye on him in any of those places, and this is only a temporary solution," Nick returned. "From now until my wedding day, either you or I will watch over him at all times."

"Wedding?" Gyan was startled. "Who are you engaged to, Nick?"

"No one. Yet." Giving his cousin a guiding push, he said, "Go sit in the bedroom for a few minutes, Barro. Gyan and I have some things to discuss."

Once the boy was safely out of hearing, Gyan began, "Nick, you've let yourself fly into a panic over this. You've got to -"

"How much longer is this going to go on, Gyan?" Nick said, slumping into a chair. "How many mistakes am I going to make before I finally start doing this right?"

"Nick, you're not responsible for the attempt to snatch Barro. The failed attempt, might I add."

"I'm the king now, Gyan. I am responsible for everything." He rested his forehead in his hand. "I knew it was coming. I _knew_ something was wrong with ignoring that threat, yet I paid no heed to my instincts. Now I see why my father would have made the choice I did: because he would have considered losing Barro an acceptable risk. I should have seen it before. I should have made my own decision. It's because of me that Barro was in danger; because of my foolishness in ignoring that note, my pride in insisting on waiting for the perfect queen."

"Nick, this isn't your fault. It's... it's mine." Gyan took a deep breath. "All those weeks ago, when you asked me if I had spotted anyone in the garden... I lied. I did see someone."

"Halron?"

"No. It was a human youth. He turned away just before he could come within hearing range of you and Barro. I didn't think it important enough to mention."

Nick's eyes slowly closed, as if in great patience. "Please try to remember to tell me _everything_, Gyan. This situation isn't your fault, however. The one you saw is most likely irrelevant." He stood up. "First things first. We need to have Halron and Varmo taken to comfortable cells."

"You do think Varmo is behind it, then?"

"No. But it doesn't hurt to be safe, and we may be able to get something out of them this way. I'll also need to assign some agents to observe the two who helped Barro... Theo and Jane. Something isn't fitting here, Gyan, and I need to know what it is. If Halron really intended to kidnap Barro, why would he let a single boy stop him and finger him to me? I could be wrong, but I think there's something else going on." He sighed. "I wish we had Mayfair here. I can't make any educated conjectures without knowing the minds of the youths involved, and for that I need her."

"It all does seem a bit too clear-cut, doesn't it?" Gyan agreed. "But Barro and those two kids all say it was Halron. Doesn't leave much room for doubt. So, any other steps we need to take?"

"One more." He sat down at his desk and took out pen and paper. "I have a letter to write. Unraveling this scheme is a good enough endeavor, but there is a way I can ensure that there will no longer be any reason for anyone to threaten my cousin in the first place."

----------------------

Mayfair gave Stock a firm farewell hug. "It's been so good to see you."

"You weren't bored out of your mind in this backwoods shack?" he said, incredulous. She only smiled. "Well... It was good seeing you, too. Make sure to write to me, okay? It could be I won't see you again until I'm on my death bed."

"I will write you. But..." She reached up to clasp his rough, calloused hand. So warm and familiar, so comforting. "...I won't let that happen to us, Stock."

"Well... I may see you at the wedding, I guess."

"Didn't I tell you that I'm not going to marry Nick?"

Stock raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say anything about Nick. Just a wedding."

"I know what you meant."

Still... he had a point. She'd been thinking about Nick off and on for most of her trip. Thinking, and wondering...

She was all but convinced now that Nick's motives in proposing to her were not as pure as they seemed. If he truly had those sorts of feelings... what should she do? She wasn't sure yet, but more and more she began to feel that she knew the answer in her heart. Nick had done some wrong things, but he was a good man. Unlike his father, he cared about people. And she felt closer to him than anyone she knew. They shared a common sorrow, and a love for Cypress that overrode all else.

Either way, she had to confront Nick with what she'd uncovered. Mayfair boarded the cart, bidding a last farewell to Stock. She prayed that her journey would be swift, for she could scarcely wait to see what she would find at its end.

----------------------

Nick reviewed the letter one last time and handed it to the head messenger. "Deliver this to His Royal Highness the king of Sharland as quickly as possible," he instructed him. "If he should inquire, assure him that this is meant to be a social occasion, and any business we conduct will be trivial matters. There may be one matter of importance, but one which will not require any difficult decision on his part."

"Understood, Your Majesty." The head messenger trotted off to pass the message on to a subordinate.

The king sighed to himself. _Too many mistakes. I suffered for my first one; a temporary loss of my sword arm, and no more. But others suffered for all the rest. Hindel lost his life to my pride and arrogance._

_No one alive is more fit for the throne than I, yet time and again I've shown that I am not the best that Cypress could have hoped for. But I'm learning. It's so hard, father, but I'm learning. This very day I've learned the cost of allowing my whims to blind me to other concerns. I will become worthy of the power that is mine by right of birth._

_And I will apply what I've learned. No matter what else proceeds from now, I will make sure beyond doubt that Barro will not die for my mistakes as Hindel did._


	7. Chapter 7: The Engagement

- Chapter 7: The Engagement -

Nick was reviewing a proposed temporary taxation plan when he heard a knock at the door. Before he could ask, a voice said, "Nick, it's Mayfair. May I speak with you?"

A frown settled over his face. He hadn't even known she was back yet. For her to have discovered a problem already was almost unbelievable, and it was unlike her to bother him unless she had a serious concern. Perhaps, just perhaps, she had reconsidered...? But he would not allow himself to put too much hope into that possibility.

The king was halfway out of his seat before he remembered himself. He sat back down, turned the chair to face the door, and said loudly, "You may enter."

As always, it was a pleasure to see her warm face, and she looked happier than when she left. He stood. "It's very good to have you back. Did you enjoy your visit?"

"I did. Thank you, Nick." She bowed her head slightly. "I came here to talk to you because I've been thinking over your proposal."

He nodded, and tried to keep his voice unaffected by the eager hope which was making his heart pound. "That's good to hear. How have your conclusions changed?"

"I..." In a rare flicker of shyness, she turned and faced the bookshelf before continuing to speak in a calm, even tone. "I've been thinking that you weren't completely honest about your reasons for wanting me to marry you. I was remembering the incident with Kisaragi..."

"You'd better have a good reason for bringing that embarrassing moment up," he said with a half smile.

She nodded. "I was too absorbed in my own humiliation then, so it never occurred to me to think... of how you'd resisted her. It was because of me, wasn't it?"

"No. I will admit that I was quite taken in by them. I'll never know for sure, but I strongly suspect they used some sort of magic to confuse me, or perhaps the odors emitted by the plants in that garden. But even under that influence, I never would have gone to the perverse length that they were suggesting."

"Nick, you were looking right at me when you refused them."

"I was going to say it," he said, with all the patience he could muster. "Your own predicament interrupted just before I could answer them. I was outraged that they would dare affront a woman of such... distinction as you."

"Do you always respond in such an extreme manner when one of your officers is offended?" She turned around to face him, her voice becoming bold once more now that she had gotten started. "It's not just that, Nick. You've always shown me courtesy above and beyond what a king owes his general, even before I received that appointment. We're friends, but that is hardly enough to explain it. Maybe you just don't want to admit it, Nick, or maybe you don't even realize... but I think that you _do_ love me."

Nick looked at her for a long moment, composing a proper response. Halfway through he discarded it, and simply slumped back into his chair with a groan.

"Nick?" Mayfair prodded, her eyebrows furrowed prettily.

"Forgive me... I'm..." _...just not in the mood for this right now. This is too much for me to deal with._ "...I'm not sure how to explain this, Mayfair. Suffice to say that you've misunderstood."

"Nick..." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "You can trust me with your feelings. You know I'd never hurt you."

"Fine. I'll trust you with my feelings. But they aren't what you think." He sighed, rubbing at his jaw. "I've talked with you about my father -"

"No. Not really." There was a pause. "Forgive me for interrupting, but..."

"I understand. I suppose... I've never talked much about him because I never could properly convey my feelings about him." He gazed into the distance. "Gadrios was more than my father. He was the greatest king I could conceive of Cypress having." Nick turned and looked fully into her face, openly admiring the strength and wisdom he saw there. "You are the greatest queen I could conceive of Cypress having. Every thing I've done for you, I've done either because of your great value to Cypress, or because I am fortunate enough to have you as my friend."

She blushed slightly. "I think you're picking at the definition of 'love' too much, Nick. You admit that you have feelings for me. You admit that you think the world of me. Why is it so hard for you to admit what that adds up to?"

"Please tell me you weren't planning to accept my proposal on the basis of that misguided logic."

"I haven't decided yet." She gave him a look. "The possibility grows dimmer the longer you keep on denying what you feel."

The hope he'd dared to rekindle was again snuffed out. She was not agreeing to marry him; probably she never would. The ache of seeing her before him but not being able to have her could be felt all the way to his heart. "Then I suppose I should inform you that my proposal is no longer open indefinitely. You have roughly two weeks."

For a full ten seconds she could not speak. "What do you mean?"

"I've invited the entire court of Sharland to a few days of entertainment at Castle Cypress. A celebration, if you will, of our renewed relations." He went back to the papers at his desk, again silently reviewing the specifics of the taxation. "Princess Muriel, the eldest daughter of the king of Sharland, is now a grown woman. I met her on a few occasions before my father was murdered, and have had some scattered correspondence with her since. Sharland chose not to embroil himself in the war with Iom, but Princess Muriel managed to covertly send supplies to the Cypress resistance." He stopped to draw a mark on a questionable portion of the law.

It took him a moment to regain his train of thought; thankfully, Mayfair was patient enough to wait rather than break in with questions. "Quite honestly, Princess Muriel falls short of you in every quality but physical beauty and coolness of reason, and the former is of no consequence after a certain point. However, if she falls short, it is only by a small margin. I intend to ask for her hand in marriage during the celebrations." He took in a deep breath. "I would not withdraw my original offer on such short notice, however. Should you decide to accept it before the court of Sharland arrives, I will willingly take you as my wife instead." Before Mayfair could say anything, he took a paper from his desk and handed it to her. "This is the speech I prepared for asking the king of Sharland to grant me his daughter's hand. If you have the time, please review it for me and let me know of any suggestions you have. I suspect that His Royal Highness won't need any convincing to form an alliance of marriage with the most powerful kingdom in this part of the world, but I'd prefer to be absolutely sure."

Mayfair took the speech from him and scanned it with her eyes. He could read what she was thinking, what she was discovering: more work had gone into preparing it than he would have been willing to spend on a mere bluff.

At last she found her voice. "Why? Surely you don't think an impending deadline will make me agree to your proposal out of panic?"

The king shook his head. "I expect it to have the reverse effect. I know you don't like being rushed. As for why: It's simple. I want to marry as soon as possible, the sooner to give Cypress a queen, and the sooner to produce an heir. On reflection, I realized that was more important than getting my first choice of wife. Especially when my second choice is scarcely much worse." _There. That should erase any confusion about my feelings for her._

The speech fell from her hands. "I need to sit down," she said weakly.

It was a simple statement, not an implied request. Nonetheless, Nick got up from his seat and brought over the chair that was waiting by the door. As she wordlessly fell into it, Nick realized to his dismay that tears were running down her face.

"Mayfair...?"

"I wanted... for you to love me." Her voice was just slightly strained by the steadily flowing tears. "I was so close to being certain... and I began to think, if you loved me... maybe I could come to love you." She looked into his eyes, seeking sympathy. "You were the only one I could ever imagine falling in love with me, Nick. That was my best hope of..."

"Stop it." He couldn't stand to see her like this. Especially not over something so petty and foolish. "You're getting yourself upset over nothing, Mayfair. You don't need love to comfort you; you're stronger than that."

"Good spirits, Nick!" She shouted the words like a curse. "I'm human."

He sat back down, murmuring with disappointment, "Yes. I suppose you are. ...Perhaps Muriel was the best choice all along." She did not respond, save to glare at him as she wiped away her tears. "You really shouldn't let yourself get upset over love."

"Why not?" she asked, as though in challenge. "The only reason I could have had to marry you was if you felt love for me."

"What I feel for you is better than love," he retorted. "I revere you. You more powerfully represent Cypress than even myself. Short of beloved Cypress, I would sacrifice anything to preserve you from harm. I value you over anyone alive."

"That's very profound," Mayfair said. "And utterly lifeless. Reverence flows only in one direction. Wouldn't you rather share a feeling? Think of Natasha and Deanna, their happiness. Don't you want to be like them with someone?"

"Never. Think about it for a moment, Mayfair! Think of that day when they left here, think of what their love really meant. He was going to walk away from her forever, and she would have let him! It wasn't love that brought them together; it was you and I. Is that really what you want? To depend on the strength of others to save you from the despair brought by love?"

"That wouldn't be a concern if I were loved by someone as emotionally reasonable as you." She got up to leave. "Excuse me, Nick. Maybe love is illogical, but I've always been one to hope beyond hope rather than give up. That's why I went into Iom to rescue you, in spite of the danger to the young soldiers in my care."

"You wouldn't like it if I loved you, Mayfair," Nick said, forestalling her at the door. "I'd probably treat you the same way I do everything I desire. I'd pursue you without scruple, and once I had you I'd do anything to keep from losing you. I'd separate you from your friends rather than share your affections with anyone else. My loving you would destroy your freedom."

She stared at him. "Good spirits, Nick... you don't even truly know what love is."

"I'm not saying that's what love is for everyone. I'm saying that's what love would be for me."

"Then you've convinced me that your love is as undesirable as any other feeling you might have for me. This may surprise you, but that doesn't make me any happier." She closed the door behind her as she left.

Nick sat in thought for a while.

At last he sighed. _Who do either of us think we're fooling? She's in denial now, but to a certain extent at least, she knows I'm right. She's always been fond of me for my ability to make dispassionate decisions. And me... I still want her as my wife over anyone else. Of course she's "human", capable of occasional bursts of silly sentimentality, but none of us are perfect. I haven't forgotten my own pitiful display when we first met. The fact that she understands such things could even make her a better queen. I can protect and guide my people, but only she could so completely sympathize with them, understand their needs and desires..._

He jolted off that train off thought, yanking himself back to the papers awaiting him on his desk. _Damn it, I've got to stop fantasizing about her! She's made it perfectly clear that she'll never be mine._

But he knew that he could not completely give it up. Not until his vows were sworn to another.

----------------------

Once she'd closed the door to her room, Mayfair let the tears come again. She had forgotten that Nick could be so cold. He hadn't scorned her desire for love out of cruelty, she knew, but it still hurt.

And yet... he was more than simply his father's son. In his own way, he'd treated her with courtesy and thoughtfulness. He didn't need to confess what feelings he had for her, nor speak derisively of his hypothetical "love". He'd done both those things to comfort her. Gadrios, she was sure, would not have cared. The famously cold-blooded king would have openly shunned any woman who so denied him. Though he would probably be loathe to admit it, Nick's heart beat with far more life than his father's ever did. She could not forget that.

----------------------

For the first few days of his imprisonment, Halron was not permitted to have visitors. He was warned that this would be the case when he was placed in his cell. His guards had said nothing since then, even when they brought his food and water. Not that he desired their conversation.

At the least, he was free of the incessant pestering and deriding of the miserable worms who populated this great castle. He had been proud to serve under the roof of the very man who was rapidly restoring Cypress to greatness, but his fellow soldiers had spoiled that experience for him. Not completely, but bad enough.

The first day he was allowed visitors, he received no less than three. The first was his father. His eyes burned at Halron, sitting on the floor of his cell. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

He had nothing to say. Even less that he wanted to hear.

The silence drolled on, and at last his father gave up. "I'm so disappointed in you," he growled, and walked away.

He'd been expecting his second visitor no less than his first. It was Binuto. The human rapped on the bars of his cell. "Well, well. Looks like your uncle's shame has fallen on you." Halron persisted in his silence. Everything that he'd ever needed to say to Binuto, he'd said to him in their last encounter, several months ago.

Binuto squatted down, poking his head through the bars of the cell. If he wanted to, Halron could give the smirking youth a good kick in the face, earning himself a severe punishment. "So, what are you in here for? Everyone's being so close-mouthed about the whole thing. ...You might as well speak up, old friend. I know you're not dead yet."

He refused to allow himself to be provoked. Affecting an air of boredom, he cast his eyes to one of the rear corners of the cell.

"You're playing innocent, aren't you? Well, fair enough. Maybe you _are_ innocent. Of whatever it is you're in here for, anyway. But believe me, Dantom's nephew... your uncle's guilt is on you. The blood he's shed is on your hands. And though you can play innocent all you like, I know you want to shed some of your own."

"That's enough." The voice came not from Halron's throat, but from the centaur who was currently guarding the cells. "Visiting time is over."

He continued to focus on the rear corner of his cell, but he almost wished he could see the two speakers. "I'm pretty sure there isn't any time limit on visits."

"There is for you. Let me be blunt, Binuto: I don't like you. Everyone pities you because of what happened to your parents. Well, I have a bit better understanding of how people think, and whether consciously or subconsciously, you manipulate their feelings to your benefit. You're a cold-blooded snake, and you think your personal tragedy makes you more important than anyone else."

"Natasha would be shocked by your pessimistic interpretation."

"Natasha isn't here. I don't know what Halron's done, but I'll bet he deserves better than to have you in his face for an hour. And I can't imagine you having any good reason to visit him. Now get up, and get out. I'm already going to recommend to the lieutenant that you not be allowed any future visits; don't make me report you, to boot."

He heard Binuto get to his feet. "You really shouldn't make such unfair accusations."

"Save the subtle threats for someone who might get a few shakes out of them. The others in our squad might be afraid of you, but I'm not." As the sound of Binuto's footsteps receded, the guard muttered, "Miserable pest. Is he trying to pick up Eric's slack, or what?"

Halron's final visitor of the day did not appear until several hours later, and came as a complete surprise. The man responsible for his confinement, unlike his earlier visitors, took care to stay a good arm's length away from his cell. Understandable.

"I'm so sorry about this, Halron," Theo said softly. "I tried to keep from telling His Majesty. I really did."

For the first time, Halron had something to say to one of his visitors. "It's not your fault. You did just as you were supposed to, as a citizen of Cypress." He staged a grin. "Don't worry about me. Once they catch on that it was all a joke, I'll be out of here."

"A... joke?"

Halron spread his hands. "Nothing happened to the boy, did it? I'm in here for some idle chatter, nothing more."

"This is serious!"

"It is," he nodded. "Which is why I should be apologizing to you, not the other way around. I'm sorry I disturbed your peace."

Theo fidgeted, uncertain whether or not to believe him. "Look, I... Do you need anything?"

"Nothing. Go. Don't worry about me."

After Theo was gone, Halron gave a weary sigh. Ironically enough, of his three visits, the only one which had pleased him in the slightest was Binuto's.

At least there was one consolation: he wouldn't be seeing Varmo. Blessedly, they had been given cells in different corridors. Ever since King Nicholas had stripped him of his title, his already irritating friend had done nothing but mope and whine in philosophical manner about the unfairness of the world. Perhaps a week or two locked away like a foul criminal would give him some perspective on what it was really like to be miserable. Unfortunate as it was that Theo had shown up when he did, this was a nice alternative. One might even say that Halron had planned it that way; he had to admit that the threats he delivered to His Royal Highness made it very easy to finger Varmo.

Sweet Cypress, how he hated the arrogant kyantol's obnoxious whining. How he hated all the wretched hooligans who taunted and hounded him just because of his uncle. Most of all, though, he hated himself. He'd injured the best friend he could have hoped to have, and now he had betrayed the only friend he actually _did_ have. All for... nothing. Nothing but anger.

Halron slowly ran his hands over the cell bars. Yes... maybe this really was the best way it could have worked out.

----------------------

Mayfair had arrived back at Castle Cypress in late morning, and spent most of the day restoring order among the youth squads. Now that Cypress was at peace, everything else seemed to run along smoothly without her direct supervision.

She didn't want to speak to Nick again for some time, but decided that there would be no harm in dining with him as she usually did. After all, with most of the nobility and ministers at the table, plus one or two visiting lesser officials, they scarcely had a chance to talk to each other at dinner even when they wanted to.

As steaming platters were set out before them, Mayfair noticed a young boy tending to the king. It was an effort to hide her shock when she recognized him.

Naturally, she'd seated herself on the opposite end of the table from Nick and Gyan, so she had no chance to whisper an inquiry to either of them. Instead, she waited until one of them finished. For discretion's sake, after Gyan left the table she counted off half a minute before excusing herself. Once in the hallway, she broke into a dignified jog. No doubt there was no hurry for her to know what was going on; if there had been, Nick would have told her before. But her instincts wouldn't let her go one minute without having all the information she needed to protect that child.

As she had guessed, Gyan was on his way to the royal bedroom, and she caught up to him just before he reached the door, clapping a hand on his massive shoulder. He turned to her and grinned. "'Lo, Mayfair."

"What is Barro doing in there?" she demanded in a whisper.

"Nick didn't tell you? He's posing as his personal servant now. Well, for a little while. You see, Nick's going to propose to a princess from -"

"I know that. What was wrong with where we had Barro before?"

"Oh, I think you can guess that much." Gyan grinned again. "You're smart that way. Me, I probably won't even be able to figure out why Nick told you his marriage plans before telling you about Barro. But I'll sure have fun guessing!"

He closed the door to the royal bedroom behind him before she could give him a proper rebuke.

----------------------

Nick was no more than a minute into his morning ride when he heard a familiar voice call out, "Your Majesty!"

With an inward sigh, he turned his mount around, bringing his small escort to a halt. A tall steed was bearing Mayfair towards them at a rapid pace. In contrast to her usual outfit, she wore a set of loose-fitting pants instead of a skirt, presumably so that she could sit properly in the saddle. He waited until she pulled up beside him.

"Your Majesty, may I speak with you?"

He answered, "Kindly explain why you needed to claim a few minutes conversation with me in such a dramatic fashion."

"I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. Your time is very difficult to obtain these days." Her eyes darted over the riding party. "Gyan is not with you, I see."

The king ordered his guards to stay at a discrete distance as they rode. When he was sure the two of them could speak privately, he said testily, "Gyan stayed behind to watch over Barro. But of course, you had figured that out already. Come to the point."

She kept her eyes from his, coolly watching the ground before her. "You can't intimidate me, Nick, and you know it. You're trying to build some sort of emotional wall between us. It won't work. Now, tell me. You directed Stock to try to convince me to marry you, didn't you?"

"I didn't tell him to convince you that I was in love with you."

She must have read the anger in his tone, because she said in that sage voice of hers, "He meant well. He was only trying to help us."

"And me? You're not mad at me, are you?"

She shook her head. "All you did was try to bring someone else to your side of the argument. Were your motivations different, I'd actually call what you did romantic." She let a few moments of silence pass, easily covered up by the soft pounding of hooves. "And in fact, the most important topic I wanted to discuss with you is not that, but Barro. He's the reason you're going to propose to Princess Muriel, isn't he?"

"You already know that, so why ask?" Sometimes he wished it was possible to keep a secret from her.

"I wanted to hear you admit it." She turned, at last, to look him in the face. "I think what you're doing is one of the most gallant things I've ever known."

"How so?" he returned, meeting her gaze.

"You were determined to marry me before. To give up such a fond desire for your cousin's sake is gallantry, or I do not know the meaning of the word."

He sighed, turning his eyes back to the road. "First of all, it's not for the sake of Barro himself. He's part of the reason, but I'm doing this primarily to preserve my bloodline in the surest way possible. Second, I haven't given up on the idea of marrying you. There's still two weeks left. Finally, if you accuse me of modesty, I will gladly lay claim to a dozen acts of pure gallantry committed during the war. There's no need for you to turn my purely pragmatic actions into heroic deeds."

"True enough. However... this does fairly destroy your argument that you don't love me. Preserving the royal bloodline is a sacred duty to Cypress, and easily takes precedence over true love."

He was pleased to see that she was calmer, more in control this time. But as well as she hid it, Nick knew that she waited tensely for his answer.

They were approaching the village now, where people would see them. Without a word, he turned his horse off course, onto a side path. His guards followed. Once they were on a safe stretch of road, he reached out and grasped Mayfair by the arm, gently pulling on her until their horses came close together, sides almost touching. He could not allow even the slightest chance of anyone hearing what he had to say to her.

"Mayfair," he whispered, leaning in close to her face so she could hear. She stared at him, trying to read the fervor she saw in his face and heard in his voice. "If I thought it would make you happy, I would gladly tell you 'I love you' every day for the rest of your life. I would pour affections on you until you were satisfied, bestow on you the finest riches and comforts I could procure. But it would be a lie, and you're perceptive enough that you would realize it before long, no matter how well I hid it. You'd probably still be an effective queen after that, but... I couldn't stand to use you so cruelly. If you enter into marriage with me, I want it to be with full awareness that I do not, and cannot, love you." He released her arm. "Do you understand?"

She nodded. No sadness marked her face this time, only acceptance and strength. "You know, if you'd simply said 'I love you,' I would have agreed to marry you on the spot."

"I know." He gave her a half smile. "See? There's a gallant deed. I admit it freely."

In truth, it wasn't; only a foul cad would have done anything other than what he did. But Mayfair returned his smile nonetheless. "So tell me," she said. "...without your love, what reason could I possibly have to marry you?"

"Your duty to Cypress."

She pondered that. "Because I would be her ideal queen? Why would you prefer me to Muriel? On top of everything else, there's a political advantage to marrying her."

"Mayfair, my father won more for Cypress than any king before him, all without giving himself, his siblings, or any of his children to a political marriage. Why should _I_ have to resort to such a crude diplomatic tactic so early in the game? I am less than my father was, but I am perfectly capable of playing Sharland as needed without marrying into their royal family. It was for other assets that I chose Muriel, and as I've said, you are superior to her in all of them."

"As I believe I've hinted to you before, Nick, I think your judgment in regard to my qualities is clouded," she said calmly, though she again failed to fully restrain a blush.

"Don't speak such nonsense," he snapped. "You're a modest woman, Mayfair, but scarcely ignorant of your own talents. If you were, you would not have accepted your appointment as general. Stop dodging around the issue. You have only one reason for withholding the gift of your hand in marriage: you're holding out for a marriage of love."

A good-sized silence followed that. "You're right. I'm being selfish."

In spite of himself, Nick felt a reprimand of guilt. "Yes. But in at least this one case, you have a right to be. I have nothing to offer you. My strength, my wealth, my virtues are all meaningless to you without love. And after all you've already done, all you are already doing for Cypress, I cannot ask you to surrender your happiness. If you wish to reject my offer, you may do so without guilt." He took a deep breath. "I only ask that you consider what Cypress may gain if you become queen. It's not only your abilities. I know you, as I do not know Muriel, or any other suitable woman. I know your thoughts, your values. I can trust you, depend on you to act in certain ways. More importantly, Cypress knows you. You are an experienced and beloved leader of Cypress, and you care for your people. All things which Muriel would have to gain after becoming queen. Considering the recent upheaval in the government, I think it would be best if the people of Cypress were to have one of their own as queen."

They were again nearing the village, but Mayfair ventured to ask another question. "Then why is Muriel your second choice?"

"With most of Cypress's officials and nobility slaughtered in Woldol's coup, you are the only Cypressian left who is even remotely worthy. Now, be quiet as we go before the people," the king ordered. "Note how they react. I think you will see that they more than share my opinion of you."

Mayfair flinched slightly at that, and Nick realized to his belated regret how emotionless his speech had become. His imminent appearance before his people had triggered his instinct to appear as strong, firm, and remorseless.

Still, Mayfair at least did as she was told. The people looked up at them as they passed, and the king knew most of them would be curious, at first, as to who the woman was who rode so proudly beside him. Recognition would take a few moments, as many had never seen her before, and none had seen her like this. Whispers spread as they passed by, and the king knew the people were all realizing there was only one woman she could be.

Then, without warning, Mayfair hopped off of her horse. Nick silenced the protest that rose to his mouth, immediately realizing it was too late. Still saying nothing, Mayfair stepped before a dwarf and took hold of his right arm. As she lifted it, Nick noticed that it was infected. The dwarf watched in silent wonder as she gently ran her hands over the arm. In seconds, it was completely healed.

Nick gave her a helping hand with remounting. "That was not becoming of a general of Cypress," he murmured to her.

She responded with a look that was half reproachful, half pitying. He looked away, trying not to let the people see the shame on his face. _Right after I spoke of the value of the people's love for her... What was I thinking? A woman like Mayfair should not be restrained by the expectations of her rank._

"You're something of a disappointment to me, my son."

Nick did not give much thought to from where he was hearing his father's voice(was it a memory?). He focused on his people.

"You do bring honor to my name, but there is the spark of failure in you. You lack focus. Your mind should be ever on your objective, your vision. Instead, you allow other things - unimportant things - distract you."

_Unimportant to you, father. Not unimportant to me._

"You must always choose the surest path to success. Allow nothing to chance. If you let those other considerations affect your choice, inevitably you will choose uncertain paths, and chance will fall against you. If you do not clear those distractions from your mind... you will not achieve all that you wish for."

_That is why I cannot have Mayfair, isn't it, father? Because I chose to make an honest petition for her hand, instead of coercing her into acceptance. Because I allowed the considerations of honor and friendship to shatter my focus on my objective: her at my side._

Nick pushed the stray memory out of his thoughts. _I'm sorry, beloved father. You were the greatest king Cypress ever had, or will have. But I cannot be a perfect Gadrios the First, and I will destroy myself if I try. I can only be a reasonably successful Nicholas the Second. That's why I have to choose my own path. Your goals were humiliating your enemies and acquiring a powerful wife. Mine are keeping Barro safe and treating Mayfair as she deserves._

He looked to his general. "Have you heard that it was a member of the youth squads who threatened Barro? A certain Halron."

"Oh no. I knew I needed to give him more attention."

He explained the situation. "If you have the time, could you have a talk with him? And Varmo as well, if you think he's significant to the attempt."

"I'd want to talk to Halron even if I didn't think I could learn something from him."

They concluded the morning walk and returned to the stables. They dismounted, leaving the horses to the care of the guards, and headed back to the castle proper. "Thank you for coming with me, Mayfair. I greatly enjoyed your company."

"Well! How different from the way you greeted me!" she said with a smile.

"It was your approach I objected to, not -" He stopped himself. "Forgive me. At times it is difficult to be both your king and your friend."

"I understand."

She moved to leave. "Mayfair... one last word. Being queen isn't fundamentally different from being a general. It's simply a different set of duties." He wiped a hand across his face. "I won't trouble you further about this. Thank you for hearing me out."

She nodded, and parted from him.

----------------------

Even as Mayfair entered the castle prison, her thoughts kept playing over that last conversation. She knew now, without a doubt, that Nick was hiding something. Nick was almost always good at keeping his emotions under control, but he'd exposed himself with that cruel reprimand of her healing that man. It took her a moment to deduce why he would say something like that, but now she understood: he was jealous. Jealous of her attentions.

Of course, it would be foolish to call jealousy evidence of love, but that moment was the revealing key to something she'd always sensed lurking well under Nick's surface. Whether inspired by love or something else, Nick desired her. He would have wanted to marry her even if he were not king.

The realization should have disturbed her, she supposed, but she intuitively trusted Nick as her long-time friend. He would not let his base impulses control him, and he certainly wouldn't let them hurt her. Even assuming he did not love her... which still seemed uncertain. Oh, Nick had been honest with her; she was sure of that. But there was no guarantee that he was fully aware of the emotions hiding within his heart.

_If only there were more time, she lamented. Given time, I could uncover what he truly feels for me. Perhaps, if they had time to get to know each other, Nick would come to love Muriel. Or, if neither I nor Muriel is the right woman for him, he could find someone who is. Nick is a good man; he deserves that. But he's right... Cypress comes first. And with the royal family so reduced, there is no time..._

She came to a stop before Halron's cell, and softly called his name.

The young beastman looked up at her - or at her legs, to be precise - and furrowed his brow in mild perplexity. Mayfair suddenly wished she'd changed back into a skirt. She hadn't thought of it before, but the pants likely made her look more like a young woman than an authority figure. "You didn't need to come," he said weakly.

"I want to help you, Halron." She looked him directly in the eyes. "But you must speak to me the truth... only the truth. Do you understand? Refuse to answer if you must, but above all do _not_ lie to me."

He nodded meekly. "You already know all the worst, anyway."

"Did you write this?" She showed him the letter about the Kyantol Alliance.

Halron made an embarrassed grimace. "Yes."

"And did you follow through on the threat? Does anyone else know about Barro?"

"Only Varmo, Theo, and -" His face struggled. "Theo's lady. I can never remember her name. And Varmo only knows because you imprisoned him."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" She was certain she knew why, but wanted to hear if he would tell the truth.

"It was too risky; the Heir could have been harmed. I had to kidnap him myself." His voice took on a penitent quality. "I would not have hurt him. I swear it."

"Kidnapping him would have been bad enough," she said in a voice of iron. "Even _threatening_ to kidnap him was bad enough."

"I know..."

"Then why?" She thrust the letter before him. "Why this?"

He struggled for over half a minute for his answer. "Desperation," he said at last. "I couldn't stand things continuing as they were any longer. If I won, Varmo would have used his new authority to make things better for me. Otherwise..." He gestured vaguely at the bars of his cell.

Mayfair drew in a breath. "Good spirits, Halron. You can't have -"

"It's better than the way things were. Self-pity coming at me from my friend. Guilt coming from within. Coldness and ridicule coming from everywhere else. I needed somewhere to run. Here..." He gave a heavy sigh. "...I'm free from all those things."

"Not the guilt, Halron," she returned firmly. "You can never be free of guilt. Not until you redeem yourself of it."

"I thought this imprisonment _was_ redemption. But I have a new guilt, now."

"It is good that you at least feel guilt for this. How did you know about Barro?"

He blinked. "It was a chance discovery. That's all."

A part of her felt like laughing with relief. All Nick's suspicions amounted to nothing. There was no conspiracy, no skilled maneuvering to harm Barro; only a very confused young soldier acting without thinking.

Mostly, though, she felt saddened at how far she had let Halron fall. It would take quite an effort to bring him back, and most of it would have to be on his part. On her side, she would have to be firm and unrelenting. "You must control your behavior much better than this, Halron," she said. "Treachery against Cypress, however small in degree, is the most unacceptable of actions. I doubt it can be forgiven a second time."

"You think I will be released, then?"

"I don't know. However, since your intentions were not malicious, and since you've done no actual harm, it would seem likely." She stepped back from his cell. "We will have to talk about your behavior at much greater length, Halron."

He bowed his head. "Yes, General Mayfair. ...Thank you."

The beastman looked so harmless now. It warmed her heart to know that she could have such a subduing effect on one of her youths, but she had to keep in mind that it was only temporary. If she didn't help him come to terms with himself soon, he would strike out again. Still, it had felt good to do her duty as general. It was not as satisfying as being a healer, but better than...

She turned and left the prison before thoughts of Nick's last words for her could take over. _Simply a different set of duties, he said. Completely disregarding the fact that we'd be married._

_But then, what choice does he have? When he first made his offer to me, I was so repulsed by the idea that I never gave a thought to the reality, of what it must be like for him. I am not required to marry. He is. Against that heavy ultimatum, and dozens of other responsibilities demanding his attention, it must be nearly impossible for him to even think of love. Perhaps he even hides his feelings for me simply because he lacks the time to deal with them._

_But then, I cannot marry him purely on the chance that he may love me... _She brought herself to a halt. _Am I actually considering his proposal?_

..._And why not? A reasonable person must consider everything._ Her feet picked up the pace again, bringing her to her room. Not her room for much longer, she realized, if she did marry him. _Everything would be changed. Taking command of the military was a drastic enough transition. Do I really want to change professions again? And won't this new profession place me out of reach of the people I love?_

_But... it would be for the sake of Cypress. Nick says I would be a far better choice than Muriel. I've always trusted his judgment before, and it's never proven wrong. Wouldn't I then be letting Cypress down by not taking on this duty? There's also Nick's feelings to consider. If I do not marry him, would his frustrated desire for me affect his ability to lead?_

Her thoughts stilled for a moment, and Mayfair felt she could see her dear parents standing before her, gently smiling, telling her to do all she could to help people. That was advice she lived by. It was her blessing and delight that following it was not only the right thing to do, but a inexhaustible source of peace and joy. But...

Her head fell. _It's too much to sacrifice. To give away my heart, my chastity, my contact with the children... Forgive me. It's too much to sacrifice._

----------------------

It wasn't until days later that her decision was locked.

Adjusting her dress until it was neat and presentable, Mayfair said softly to herself, "Less than too much is not enough. And I am strong. I will try my best for you, children of Cypress."

Nick had been willing to marry a woman other than the one he wanted for the sake of Cypress. Could she do any less? She would, in fact, do more.

But there would be one stipulation. She would not abandon her other connections to the people; she would continue to be a healer and a general whenever she was needed. There was no need for her to give those roles up, and she would not let Nick dismiss them as beneath her. It was partly for that reason that she chose to wear her old, familiar dress, rather than a fancy one designed for the occasion: to remind Nick that he could take her as she was, nothing else. She would not be molded into his idea of a queen. Strangely enough, when she'd explained that to him, she got the impression that he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

She took a good long time brushing her hair until it was perfectly neat. Then, her appearance done to her satisfaction, Mayfair left to see Nick. On the way she averted her eyes from anyone she passed, though none of them could know what she was doing. Not without spying the ribbon, which was hidden in a fold of her dress.

When she knocked, Nick opened the door himself to let her in. Just this once, she would not object. They were both silent, and betrayed no emotion in their faces, as she drew out the ribbon and tied it around his sword arm. She focused her eyes on her work the whole time, and let out a plain sigh when she finished the knot.

Their engagement was now official.

Nick raised a hand to her face, holding her head steady as he brought his lips over hers. At the sensation of him kissing her, her heart at last succumbed to the painful touch of desolation.

It was not the kiss itself; Nick was surprisingly tender, and held her lightly enough that she could break away with ease if she had second thoughts. It was being able to sense why he did it. It was not because he wanted to(though there was a little of that in it), but because it was the proper thing to do.

He held her only briefly, but by the time his lips parted from hers, Mayfair could feel wetness again running down her cheek. She silently admonished herself for not being able to hide her emotions well enough. Nick's face went directly from blissful to distraught when he saw the tears. "What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid, Nick," she admitted. "I don't know anything about what we're doing... marriage without love. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how _you're_ going to do this!"

Then there was his hand on her arm, gentle and reassuring. "You don't have to worry, Mayfair," he said, sounding more like he had when she first met him than he had in a long time, for some reason she could not pinpoint. "If you're not ready for something - any part of this marriage - I won't put you through it until you are. We'll guide each other through this. I don't want this to be hard on you, Mayfair; I want to make it easy on you." His eyes focused deep into hers, but there was no cool reasoning there. Only a promise, and a strange sort of plea. "Please... believe me."

It would be easy to say his fear was that she wouldn't marry him, but Mayfair knew he had never been afraid of that. He was afraid of hurting her. Afraid...

_I understand now. King Gadrios always had everything he wanted, so he took it all for granted. But Nick lost everything dear to him... and he's afraid of losing it again. That's why he cares about other people, when his father never did. Nick understands what it is to suffer deeply, and he can't stand the thought of making that happen to anyone else._

Discovering this about him, a part of him too deep for him to share with others, or even admit to himself, brought on a wave of compassion. Not really understanding how she could feel something almost motherly for her king and friend, and not caring, she reached up to grasp his shoulder. The tears had fallen away now, and she told him silently, with her eyes, that she trusted him. Then, standing on tip-toe so that she could reach, she laid a kiss of warm affection upon his cheek.

END


	8. But wait! After the credits roll:

- Aftermath -

To silence any stray thoughts he might have, Binuto whipped his arms about him as he strolled through the woods, slapping the trunks of the trees. When he arrived at the appointed meeting spot, he found the other two waiting there. The one was a tall man, perhaps in his twenties, sitting under the shadow of a tree. The other, an elf woman with ratty blond hair, stood against the trunk of another.

"You're late," snapped the elf, sounding as though she'd been eagerly waiting to give that rebuke for a long while.

Binuto did not even shrug. "This meeting was scheduled over three months ago. Kind of makes an hour or two seem insignificant, doesn't it?"

"No," she returned sharply. "But I'd agree that it seems insignificant next to your absolutely spectacular failure. Where is King Nicholas's heir?"

"He's being kept in the castle as the king's personal servant."

"What? Traitor!" the elf snarled, pulling a dagger from her loose clothes.

As she lunged at him, however, the man beneath the tree shot out a leg, tripping her. "Let the boy finish," he said quietly.

As she picked herself off the ground, Binuto continued, "I led Halron, one of the other guards here, to the gardens. He thought he was stalking me, but when he heard the king talking to Barro, I knew it would get his interest. He had reason to want King Nicholas to do his will. I planned for him to kidnap Barro, and then we'd take Barro from _him_. The problem is, Halron threatened to snatch the prince, but he didn't do it. So now His Majesty's got an eye out for a real threat."

"That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard," the elf said, glaring at him. "Your job was simple: take the Cypress heir and bring him to us. Why were you playing games with this Halron?"

He folded his arms and cast his eyes to the evening sky. "It's a matter of justice. Halron's uncle was a murderer and a traitor. I need to prove that he's no different. Obviously he smelled a rat."

"Oh, riveting." She seized the front of Binuto's vest. "Now listen. The initial contacts have been made, so it won't be long before Emild and Cypress meet to negotiate our new relations. King Ian wants to have Nicholas by the throat when that happens. Now you bring us his heir, or I will see every last drop of your blood spilled."

"You think I'm afraid of death?" Binuto said with a smile. "I don't know anything about dying, but I actually think I'll be happy when the time comes. Besides, Barro's useless to you now; King Nicholas is engaged to be married. If he's anything like his father, he won't give a damn what you do to Barro after that."

"Well, for the love of the gods, get us _some_ hold on him! Or the deal's off."

"I don't think I care for the deal anymore." He half-suppressed a yawn. "Betraying Cypress goes against every principle I have. The only reason I agreed to this was because I consider Deanna to be a bigger threat to Cypress than your pitiful king. Now your attitude has me concerned. Can I really trust you to fulfill your half, providing the troops needed for me and our quiet friend here to get rid of Deanna?"

"Helen won't double-cross us," the man sitting in the shadows put in. "I am certain of her, Binuto."

"Maybe. But I don't really trust you, either."

"Nor do I," Helen added, releasing her hold on Binuto and turning so that she seemed to be standing by his side. "How did you know that this boy would be willing to betray Cypress?"

"More important, how did you know Barro even existed, never mind where he was hidden?" Binuto added. "To be honest, I didn't believe it when you told me that."

The man looked down. "I know many things."

"Real answers," the elf demanded, jabbing her dagger towards his face. "Now!"

"Very well," he sighed. "Tell me. What do the two of you see and hear?" They looked back at him, perplexed. "The place, the moment, where you are now, correct? That is how it always is for you. Not so for me. Often, completely against my will, I witness another time and place. I don't know why; perhaps the gods chose me to be a shining light of salvation, or some such thing. But I know that what I see and hear when my senses are displaced in time and space is just as real as everything else."

"Oh, I see." She smiled with sarcastic politeness. "And what do you get out of our bargain?"

"Binuto's goal overlaps with mine." He looked up at them. There was a quiet desperation in his expression. "I must prevent Deanna and Natasha's children from reaching maturity. From a two-hour glimpse I had of the future, I know one of them will become a great and terrible leader of Iom. He will lead a march of conquest and devastation across the world that will make King Warderer's deeds nothing more than a brief aside in the history books. Even in that brief two hours, I saw horrors committed by his command that were enough to give me nightmares for nearly every night since.

"Killing the father would be a good way of keeping this from happening, though by now we may have to kill the mother instead. The seed could well have already been planted."

"Forget it," Binuto said. "So far as I know, Natasha's done nothing wrong, except be seduced by a follower of Iom."

"But... isn't that a small sacrifice, to prevent Iom from launching an era of atrocities and death?" he protested.

"Oh, please! I only have your word for that."

"I tell you, I have seen -"

"Gods!" Helen almost screamed. "Both of you are completely mad! I was a fool to ever bargain with either of you. All you humans are mad!"

"Oh," Binuto said, "...the father of your king was mad?"

"Yes, that's right," she said, giving him a cold stare. "I'm not foolish enough to believe that nonsense about an agent of Iom replacing him. You Cypressians murdered our king, and then you used that lie so that we should feel gratitude to you. Gratitude!"

Binuto burst out laughing.

"I've had it," Helen fumed. "You've failed to do as Emild requires, and obviously you would continue to fail, because you're either too loyal to Cypress or too mad - probably both. I'll deal with this my own way. If you Cypressians think you can just stomp over any nation that's weaker than you, you've got another thing coming."

"Wait!" The tall man got to his feet and called after her departing form. "I still need your help! The spawn of that Iom warrior is doom for every nation -"

"In a dream you had of 30 or 40 years from now! King Nicholas is a real threat to Emild right now."

He watched helplessly as she walked away.

Binuto's chuckles slowly died. "Well. This has been worth a few laughs. Good luck to you."

"Binuto, listen to me! I know it's hard to believe, but -"

"Yeah, yeah." He sighed. "Here's the thing. The chance of you telling the truth is about one in a thousand. And that one little chance just isn't big enough to matter to me."

He turned and strolled back the way he had come.


End file.
